Ramesses
Misanthropic Alchemy

If "We Will Lead You To Glorious Time" (2004) is for certain reasons the refraction of a work whose dedication left some doubts, with this new album, edited and released in 2007, Ramesses confirm their line-up, goats (or kids?) but also cabbages: bitter ones to be precise, as there's no doubt that we are facing a study of sound that, alas, surpasses the previous work. This new CD sounds much more precise compared to the previous one and, so to speak, satisfies everyone. Greening and Bagshaw (ex-Electric Wizard) this time act as veterans, but they do so honorably, giving firstly to themselves but secondly and more importantly to their monstrously Doom creation, a more hellish and delightfully pleasant lever.

As already stated in the review of their first recording, even here connections with the past are traceable in the form of hallucination derived from hallucination: a terrifying habitat in which the Dorset fog, with its desolate woods, manages to penetrate the limbs of the audio to please, flatter and then torture them, like in a macabre "Sabbathian" ritual where acids take place next to marijuana, mirroring in an orgiastic mixture of screams and voice samples (strictly borrowed from 70s-80s horror films, ah tradition..) to which there's nothing left but to surrender until the end of the last track. The composition this time definitely prevails, noting the attention with which the three pose the primary question of assigning not just to the wall of guitars, but also to the entire shading of the sound (with very Sabbath-like distorted arpeggios) the purification of a sound that has little pure but is now rich in mysticism and lysideasy. Richardson's voice often growls, sometimes whispers disaffective parables and almost always competes with the aforementioned samples, leaving a more than convincing aftertaste whose heaviness and indigestible construction have nothing to do with the nauseating nu-metal and/or cross-over (?) yells. Their work is a true soundtrack, aimed at mocking the current state of the English countryside (and perhaps, at times, very similar to ours in some cases) made of industrial desolation, deserted parking lots, shopping centers and utter perdition. A social design that is this time well interpreted by the three minstrels of Satan and especially well reproduced in the form of what the ear can well understand.

The harmony towards which the three push themselves, track after track, is then special, leading us by hand towards existential deserts they seem to know very well and towards which anyone, in my opinion, would find a very (little) equivocal familiarity. Still undecided? What a pity, because I must say this is stuff that deserves at least a hint of respect, even if particularly sluggish for some, but which has the great merit of resonating original, meaning by this adjective, the rare ability to represent in the band's logo or in the name itself, its own sound, like a trademark that few remain truly fond of.

In conclusion: the expectations left in the limbo of the past album are materially burned by this fine work which I discovered with great pleasure to have a strong following especially in their homeland and almost all of continental Europe. Why this passionate and seemingly obvious opinion? That's very easy: because there aren't many bands like this, that is, line-ups that have the ability to transport the listener to hallucinogenic and psychopathic worlds without even taking a step from their own apartment. Truly unique ability and especially UNCONSCIOUS, because if you think these wretches first undertook sociological studies, then turn to progressive.

The ultimate hope is finally that many will follow the example and the Luciferian (albeit playful) metric applied and reinvented by these three, in order to save us numerous intellectual efforts towards musical abortions that now corroborate our minds to the most senseless paroxysm.

Get to work, oh sectarians of the world, seek it and download it... you never know if the opium fairy will harm you or slip pills under your pillow...