Nocturnal Depression
Soundtrack For A Suicide Opus II

Let's talk again about Depressive Black Metal, particularly the poorly made kind; no half measures, ladies and gentlemen, these guys deserve a ruthless criticism. The alternative would be for me to put the word "Unbearable" in capital letters and end my review here, but considering that I spent time listening to them, it seems fitting to destroy them properly.

I would like to start my demolition work with the Monicker. "Notturna Depression"?! I demand that someone explain to me what the hell night depression is. It's evident that for the people of the Homines Metalli Nigri (yes, you got it right, they belong to the Homo species but not to Homo Sapiens), myself included, "night depression" is much more effective than "day depression," but then why not call themselves Necro Satanik Moonlight Depression Amongst Blasphemic Frostbitten Realms? I'm convinced that as a name, it would have been even more impactful. I say this because when I read their name, like a good Homo Metalli Nigri, I went into raptures and rubbed my hands in a Baudlerian self-destructive frenzy. Instead, I found myself holding the product of a couple of losers who pretend to be "The soundtrack for a suicide." No, not exactly; "The second soundtrack for a (second?) suicide." I imagine you're all wondering how one dies twice: I asked my neighbor Luca, and he told me to vote for Berlusconi in the early elections. And even if this rubbish was genuinely depressive, how do you stay alive to listen to "Soundtrack For A Suicide II " (2007) after listening to "Soundtrack For A Suicide" (2005), assuming it's impossible to die twice (Berlusconi aside). A typical case of Contradictio In Terminis. Furthermore, someone still has to explain to me the advantage of inciting your audience to suicide; after all, these groups start making suicide propaganda to make themselves talked about and sell records, but if they take it seriously and everyone kills themselves? Do they change their lives and enlist in the Foreign Legion?

Gianni and Pinotto (respectively all the instruments and vocals) are French (Jean and Pinaut, is that better?) and they decided they want to make Black too: they read on the old ten francs coins "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity" and shouted "Why not us!" That's how their Depressive Black group, Notturna Depression (!?) was born. However, be careful; Giani and Pinotto are occasionally joined by Pluto, Goofy, and Mickey (or maybe just Goofy and Mickey), the additional members for live shows. Yes, you heard that right; Notturna Depression, like every Depressive group that doesn't respect itself, does concerts. After five works in three years (in the series "few but good"), they thought live performances are a great opportunity for a nice mass suicide (they are justified, of course). Now, even if Depressive Black is not listened to in the dark of one's room, it should remain an intimate, personal, heartfelt experience: the fact that they hold concerts seems to me the biggest joke possible, especially if they don't declare themselves clowns in advance and/or if no parliamentarian spits at them.

At this point, the score should be Tepes 4-Notturna Depression 0; but today I feel like a Bomber and have no intention of being Clemente (at least since he brought down the government... I know, it was terrible...).

Beyond my subjective opinion, there remain embarrassing flaws that are more objective than ever; therefore, allow me a track by track.

The first song, "Anthem To Self Destruction," is the shortest on the album and lasts twelve minutes: someone mentioned "a flood of pure molasses" referring to Avril Lavigne. The fact that I use the same expression for a Black band is worrying. A boring song, unnecessarily melodic, horribly melodic (imagine a super slow Midenian ballad played by Naragaroth), not depressive at all and with a ridiculous title. Rating: 0

Then comes "The Stars Lightening My Path," a song in which Notturna Depression drop their pants and offer their "tribute" to Naragartoh. It lasts over twenty minutes, with only two riffs; don't start doing "strange" divisions that would lead you to think each riff occupies ten minutes. The first takes fifteen minutes, the second six. Congratulations. Rating: 0 + (the title is slightly better)

Here comes "Join Me With suicide"; if the early bird catches the worm... Our friends improve: the riffing still sucks but in compensation the song lasts twenty-four minutes and has three riffs (plus an aborted solo that sounds like it's played with one of those fake cell phones kids play with). There are some beautiful melodic interludes, which is essentially the same riff they've repeated for seven minutes and will repeat for the next seven but without distortion. Again, congratulations. Rating: 0

But here we come to the masterpiece of the album: "Hear My Voice, Kill Yourself," a song with no less than three records: the world's ugliest lyrics (something like "Kill yourself bastard so I can enjoy it"), the best of the album and also the longest. Indeed, it even has a decent riff with an appropriate keyboard. It's a shame the same thing repeats for a good thirty minutes (I'm not kidding) and, by the fourth minute, even the most patient of depressed listeners is loading the gun not for themselves but to go and bump off these two guys (Pluto, Goofy, and Mickey are smart and bail before). Rating: 1

Got to this point, to review this cd worthily, I'm left with only insults. Boring, abysmally idiotic, tangibly horrible: pathetic "like a cat without a leg trying to bury a turd on an icy lawn" (Mr Anderson).

I finish boring you here: Tepes 10 - Notturna Depression 0. You do the math, and if you need help, look at the top of the page: if the numbers don't add up, consider that in expressing the ratings for individual songs, I preferred, for mercy, to use a scale in tenths and not in fifths.

Better listen to the theme song of "Chi l'ha visto."

Stay Nocturnal.