Sadness
Danteferno

Never was a title more fitting, a slow painful descent, introspective, sensual, aimed at a journey of inner knowledge, mystical spirituality, and perhaps even of maximum redemption (paraphrasing Alighieri) so that all this can then be passed down by "a mind that does not err".

And this is where our Sadness did not fail, despite what one might think: the lack of global spotlight with its recognitions, the success never even remotely brushed, all this takes nothing away from the absolute value of their work, but rather it gives it that aura of fascination and oblivion (I would say in the French exception of the term) that perfectly seals the union between the daring/courageous listener and the Swiss combo (homeland of unparalleled musical atrocities).

Those who have the fortune/guts to listen to Sadness will never forget them, for better or for worse. And this is the spirit that drives their art.

It is also very difficult for the reviewer who aims to describe to potential readers what this "Danteferno" is: the musical comparisons don’t quite capture the idea, but if we are to attach labels, then avant-garde metal is the term that best fits our case, that is, something that owes its origins to a deformed doom/gothic with cerebral atmospheres, passing through the sound elaborations of the indispensable Celtic Frost of "Into the pandemonium" (regarding the purely metal component), until it sinks into the dark electro perdition of Die Form (for the sensual softness of which this LP is imbued).

The previous "Ames de Marbre" [1993] (a gem for very open minds only) lost the tendency to linger too much on components clearly dark/gothic branded (which sometimes recalled the earliest works of Dead can Dance), while the rather raw vocal component inspired by death metal has been retained.

Therefore, it can be said that the ideas of the debut album found definite maturation on "Danteferno": sometimes tribal atmospheres, more often tragically dreamlike, doom/death roughness and an unhealthy passion for the obscure are skillfully blended to give the listener the sense of a backward journey into the mind. From the chills and spectral female vocals of the opener and title track (a magnificent song teetering between high-grade experimental doom and gothic metal), through the romantic and funereal "Delia", suffering in unison the tenderness of "Below the Shadows", to the melodramatic and sensual suite "Aphrodite's Thorns" (in which the vocal performance of guest singer Christina Christine is almost exciting and never over the top), everything about this second full-length speaks of originality and sophistication beyond musical label barriers.

Curious tidbit: The creation of the aforementioned album also involved His Malignancy Martin Eric Ain (if you don’t know who he is, too bad for you) as producer/advisor, and this helps us understand a little better why the entire work feels so dark.

In conclusion, two technical notes: the overall recording is good, and every musical component finds its balance, though perhaps with a larger budget available (the then record label, our own Godhead, later went bankrupt) the drum sounds could have been made a bit more professional and more depth given to the rhythm guitars.