Leaves' Eyes
Sign of the dragonhead

It's a special Saturday: once again this year, my partner, in small doses, has convinced me to go to Strigarium, a Celtic-inspired festival on the shores of Lake Iseo. We were wandering among more or less interesting exhibitions and stalls, some lacking color, others set up with a magical eye - adorned with strange vials containing past suggestions - when the sun went down to drink the lake's waters and from afar came the voice of a soprano. At first, it sounded uncertain, then increasingly evocative. We approached the stage, unaware of who these Leaves' Eyes are: we glimpsed only a group of elegantly dressed metallers, led by a Nordic woman and a rough Viking with a long beard. Overcome by curiosity, we decided to entrust ourselves to their harmonies. As is usual when faced with a pleasant surprise, one, or rather, two smiles ignite in the sea of bystanders.

So here I am, arriving home, eager to listen to their latest release. The cover: a ship full of Vikings sails a stormy ocean. A great start. Browsing the web, I discover that the young soprano is hated by many Leaves' Eyes fans, as she was recently called to replace the group's founding singer, an event that is always tragic in a band's history. I also read about the Viking from earlier, who was also married to the group's founder - surely, to part ways, they must have fought a duel worthy of history books - this and more, but who cares? Elina Siirala has a voice that is delicate yet capable of making the body vibrate, and the tracks with which she makes her debut in the band are very interesting. With this latest work, the German group embraces a symphonic metal very close to power metal, with catchy melodies and an engaging structure, centered on the verse-chorus formula. The heavy guitars flow into the tinkling of traditional instruments only to return to the attack, while Siirala and Krull continue their neurotic duet between the woman's high-pitched singing and the man's dirty growls. Tracks like the title track, Across the sea or Jomsborg are the main course of the album, fast yet simple songs, which narrate in fairy-tale tones of legendary expeditions, massive fortresses, and soldiers crossing the ocean, leaving behind the fear of dying. The rich production further enhances the band's war machine, which almost never seeks elevation, keeping as its focal point the desire to have fun and entertain, appealing to the spirit of adventure that resides within every man.

Sign of the dragonhead is not an innovative or particularly original album, but the tenacity - deaf to every mockery - in sharpening weapons to wound reality, yes, it pierces its cover with its notes and overwhelms the listener.

***1/2