Garden Wall
Forget The Colours

THE REVIEW

Forget the colors: it's the music that paints.

This theme seems dear to the new Italian progressive groups. It is indeed the cornerstone of the great the Painter's Palette by the talented and prominent Ephel Duath, but it is also, apparently, of this "Forget the Colours", bureaucratically dated 2002, even though the music is projected decades ahead.

Apparently, our artists, after initially playing somewhat empty and repetitive Genesis-style prog rock, choose to forget not only the colors but everything else as well: this album is a fundamental restart. Gone are the song structure, the classic riffs, the crescendos, the "normal" voices, anything: what dominates here is the sought-after and grotesque intensity of an ambitious and massive sonic project (but not only). Calling it metal is a bit daring and limiting. Occasionally, you'll find some blast beats, electric guitars, maximum distortions, and solos, but everything is framed in patterns, structures, and harmonies so alien and "out there" that it's legitimately frightening, and I’m not joking. Added to this is Serravalle's voice, which certainly does not reassure: psychotic whispers, malevolent gurgles, then soaring into a sort of overt "theatricality," very strong and emotional, great.

This is music that gushes from the human unconscious and is (unconsciously, anzicheyés) directed to our unconscious like a painting drawn in some language or media instrument, if you will, clear yet incomprehensible to a mind like the human, hyper-structured and chained within itself - and in this they cannot help but be compared to those crazy geniuses of Maudlin Of The Well.
To put it in a phrase: forget everything else, and move forward.