Obscurant
First Degree Suicide

Anyone who tells you that “First Degree Suicide” is a good album is either lying or is a member/relative of the Finnish band Obscurant: this CD is a truly detestable and annoying melodramatic mess.

The project began as a Depressive Melo Death band and this CD is the second effort (never has this term been more appropriate) of the group after the first “Lifeform: dead.” The five Finns honestly show they have decent technical skills, but that takes a complete backseat when considering the work as a whole: it feels like the soundtrack to some B-grade movie where in the end “the good guys” die in the last heroic act. However, I don’t think I’ve fully explained myself yet, and I intend to go deeper.

First of all, the use of keyboards is excessive and pompous, and their sound becomes decidedly intrusive, overshadowing the guitars but especially the drums and vocals: and Metal, before being Death (no matter how Melodic… In Flames and At The Gates can attest) is supported by these instruments. In two words, it means mutilating and distorting the genre, precisely what Obscurant does; but that’s not all. If the compositions were particularly varied and elicited the many emotions they aim for, the rating would be more than sufficient; just think of groups like our own Graveworm, equally redundant but infinitely more dynamic and emotionally interesting. Instead, “First Degree Suicide” serves up an endless series of pathetic and whiny melodies, often garnished by Clean Vocals that, alas, let you catch and perceive here and there lyrics even more banal and squalid than the music: yet the singer tries to convey all his supermarket sorrow, generally through screaming and (less frequent) growling that in another context would be very valid.

Alongside an artificial and/or contrived mood, we also find very, very limp songwriting: our (or rather your, they’re not even slightly mine) stand out for sonic and compositional senility and in fact, they merely reprise what other far more illustrious bands did ten years earlier, reshuffling riffs and melodies a bit to avoid being accused of plagiarism. The fact is, despite their sufficient instrumental performance, the songs all sound the same, and identical to thousands more written and performed (better) by more imaginative and above all expressive groups. It doesn’t take much to understand that this product is destined for only one thing, to sell; and it’s evident that the so-called Depressive Melo Death group is nothing more than a band of charlatans trying to make a name for themselves by selling alleged negative emotions.

It's just a shame that said charlatans also have fairly good technical skills that are terribly misused: and it’s a pity that now, with the defection of In Flames (increasingly Nu Metal) and the deceased At The Gates, melodic Death remains in the hands of people like this. In short, this album is the epitome of vile and clichéd sensations that might please either a boy under sixteen or an idiot over eighteen. In any case, it is totally discouraged for anyone: if you seek something tear-jerking, it’s better to sit on the couch and read “Cuore” by De Amicis or turn on the TV and watch “Incantesimo.”