Falloch
Where Distant Spirits Remain

You leave the guesthouse where you spent the night, cross the cobblestone pathway, and head toward the sea. It's early June, but in Edinburgh, it's still a bit chilly. And it rains. That typical English drizzle that, at this time of year, falls drearily on you but seems like it doesn't have much intention of drenching you. Step by step, the call of the seagulls, which is somewhat everywhere in the city, even reaching the old Old Town, becomes more insistent, and even the houses seem to change appearance, and the air, fresh, becomes more brisk and salty as you walk.

You arrive in Leith: there is a faint yet brave and defiant wind blowing, while no one is around, too early for tourists, too late for workers. You walk to the left, toward the Leith Walk, and again everything changes: you traverse undergrowth flanked now by small houses, now by bridges, but always with the trusty river accompanying you, placid, on your walks. The air smells of freshness, of wet grass and soil, and you wonder how it is possible to smell the scents of the countryside in the city.

Following your steps, you exit the New Town and climb towards the Old Town, and then down along the Royal Mile until you catch sight of the brilliant green of Arthur's Seat. It feels impossible to stop; you feel that incredible expanse opening your heart, rugged and sweet at the same time, challenging yet rewarding once you reach its "summit". And once you're up there, the sun comes out, dries your forehead, and makes the ocean sparkle on the horizon ("Horizons") and the waves that wash over Leith. You've come full circle, and you've fallen in love with Edinburgh; now you can only descend and start walking again.

If you listen to Falloch and know Scotland, you can't help but recognize how these young musicians have managed to pour many of the distinctive characteristics of their homeland into their music (Scotland indeed). The steep and rugged rhythmic progressions are not yet sharp rocks of black metal (nor much post black metal, for that matter), just as the guitars do not lash the ear with cold and stinging notes. And the voice, it owes its pace not to storms and heavy rains but to gentle drizzles that give way to timid and faint rays of sunshine. Do you want to find negativity in this album? I find it difficult to do so, and if one must think of mournful spirits and wandering souls, then I prefer to imagine elysian fields and tall grain, with, why not, some threatening cloud on the horizon.