"Nerve And Muscle, Heart And Brains
Lost To Ireland, Lost In Vain"
19th century: hordes of Irish flock to the ports of their island to set sail for America. A dream in their hearts, to live again. "The Coffin Ship" is the narration of these journeys into the unknown, full of hope but doomed to failure from the start. The "potato famine" impacted the entire United Kingdom, but the reckless policies of the English Crown threw especially Scotland and Ireland into misery.
"Here in Humiliation And Sorrow
One Is Driven To Exclaim
Oh God That Bread Should Be So Dear
And Human Flesh So Cheap"
The text continues, even foreshadowing the dire consequences of the dreadful sea journey: to poverty is added the awareness of having been outsiders throughout their history.
'The Gathering Wilderness' is the latest album by Primordial, an Irish band led by the extraordinary Alan Nemtheanga, capable of making an evolution from the most extreme shores to a more reflective and progressive sound, still within the Metal realm.
Unlike Bathory, Primordial's love for their homeland does not materialize in any glorious reinterpretation of the past: the Irish people with whom the singer identifies are certainly not the strong Celts of Britannia but the common people of the past centuries. Herein lies the greatness of Primordial: if one's land became the excuse for a nationalistic message (as happens in Scandinavia and Eastern Europe), the result would be vulgar and trivial. But here, it is not Ireland being celebrated, but the Irish: humble and proud people who fight not so much for their country's resurgence as for something to eat at the end of the day.
"Exclusion," "Diversity," and "Loneliness" are all terms that appear repeatedly in the album, constituting its underlying theme. The individual is alone in his pain, and being among others who suffer like him cannot help, indeed it multiplies his sorrow. We find ourselves in an album that is, in certain respects (especially the musical one, let's be clear this is not folk territory), linked to epic and warlike moments: but there is no trace of the great battles of the past, nor of the greatness that once was. Pain has taken away the memory, leaving only something faded, nebulous. The bards who once sang the tales of heroes and gods now narrate the end of the world, of what has been lost and will never return... perhaps they are no longer even singers, maybe they are just beggars at the corner of a street and nothing more.
I understand why Riccardo Conforti and Ivan Zara called Alan Nemtheanga to sing on the third LP of Void Of Silence, 'Human Antithesis': the same passion found in the music of the Romans is evident in that of the Irish (not coincidentally, the lyrics of that album were written by the British singer).
The music of Primordial draws on epic and majestic moments, achieved with the mere aid of bass, drums, and guitar, and others more touching and personal, where the offering becomes more rarefied. It never quite transitions to true folk: brief passages of accordion, acoustic guitar, and violin give that quintessential Irish island flavor, nothing more. The tracks are all beautiful and different from each other, supported by clear production and inspired songwriting.
Surely those who appreciate Epic Metal and those more accustomed to classic sounds will be able to appreciate it. The extraordinary vocal skills of Nemtheanga will remind many of a new Dickinson (as well as many recent Maiden songs, more "medieval" in their progress), even if the sincerity of Primordial is light years ahead of many more acclaimed bands.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
02 The Gathering Wilderness (09:13)
You say you know me
I'm the Poison in your veins
My Faith is not welcome here
I Break the young and the cold
There is a Darkness here
You cannot imagine you cannot fathom
It speaks to me in tongues
Can you hear it?
I've built my tower of song
From words as bitter splintered bone
Gnarled and wretched, spiteful and harsh
I've cursed the vermin, the vermin of the earth
I've wished pestilence upon the foul and weak
Not just men, but woman and children too
With a rusted blade across their throats
I've played the tyrant's hand
Against the rhyme and reason of fools
I've prayed to sickly children
In their blackened cities of Filth
You say you know me? Do you?
I'm the poison in your veins
My Faith it is not welcome here
The Wilderness is Gathering all its Children in...
05 The Coffin Ships (09:58)
Young hearts born with grief
Shall pay the penalty of truth
A season of stolen youth
Shall teach old hearts to break
It feels like I've been here before
Here to where the animals lay down to die
So we stood alone on a distant store
Our broken spirits in rags and tatters
Nerve and muscle, heart and brains
Lost to Ireland, lost in vain
Pause and you can almost hear
The sounds echo down through the ages
The creak of the burial cart
Here in humiliation and sorrow
Not mixed with indignation
One is driven to exclaim
Oh god, that bread should be so dear
And human flesh so cheap[*]
Young hearts are born with such grief
We have paid the penalty of truth
A season of our stolen youth
Shall teach our hearts to break
07 Cities Carved in Stone (08:09)
I lost my self, in those streets
A passenger of foreign tongue
The sun sets, in the same language
And rises just the same
There was no grand design
To get to this point
No absolutes, no given truths
We were not carved in stone
She sent the sun to heal me
She sent the moon to guide me
And when the words failed me
So she lay beside me
Sometimes I get to thinking of the past
When I've had more than a drink or two
Who knows where the days go
And would you ever want them back
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