Satyricon
The Age Of Nero

...And the corpses are finally flowing, swollen and putrescent, in the river below the bridge on which I stand and amusedly observe...

There was a time when enlightened minds brought back to life an ancient and malevolent fetish, embodying it in a new and powerful idol, creating a legend initially only whispered, hidden from the eyes of the inept and inadequate masses, preserving its strength and purity, then allowing it to explode prematurely and incompletely gather the fruits of an identity now lost, numb, swallowed by the multitude...

Besides Roberto Mammarella (MonumentuM, but for him, the story has been closed for a long time, I would say "buried by time and dust") there are others who are still waiting to obtain the fulfillment of commitments made at the time by Aarseth in those afternoons of long sunsets of a sun that never sets in Helvete...

In this era dominated by mediocrity, those who satisfy the unusual and superficial appetites of the Voltairian multitude increase their inner misery but simultaneously sate their own perversions, thus mutinying against the indigenous drives that originally allowed them to emerge and then become corrupted.

Thus, Satyr continues incessantly accumulating what he despised, Shagrath gets married (in church!!) with Nicholas Cage's ex-wife (yes, him, the Oscar winner), Fenriz slowly fades away among beers and punk rock, and so on (and I'll stop here as I don't wish to mention them all) while everything that "was supposed to remain unchanged in form but regenerated in spirit" (to say it in the words of some character very convinced at the time) gets lost in an inexpressive drift of plagiarisms and sickening renewals.

What is new under the dying sun? Nothing, just the umpteenth black metal album, "The Age Of Nero", which hasn't been such for a long time. If only for the attitude and the spirit.

The new Satyricon is the incestuous perpetuation of "Now, Diabolical" (although unlike the latter there has been an attempt to harden), and therefore of "Volcano", surely many who will have the kindness to read this pseudo-review will know perfectly well what we are talking about, but for the few who will stumble upon this writing interested in the onomastic burden that the band carries, well here’s a brief description: a sprinkle of atmospheres (but only those) black metal, then acidic and malevolent voice and some dissonant riffs, plus a whole series of influences ranging from rocking elements to Motorhead to Teutonic thrash turned Celtic Frost, all amalgamated more or less homogeneously on rather monolithic and repetitive bases (never particularly fast and even less iconoclastic) that only rarely possess the necessary pathos to emerge from the sound magma that envelops them.

This is the case with tracks like "Wolfpack" (decidedly catchy) and "Den Siste" (good orchestrations to support the main riff) while songs like the single “My Skin is Cold” or “The Sign of the Trident" only partially succeed in bringing the cold embrace of the black metal word (or what remains of it) directly into the listener's mind. To this, we must add completely inexpressive pieces like the opener "Commando" and “Last Man Standing” truly devoid of any interesting insights.

Ultimately, I am fully aware that this "The Age Of Nero" (which at the production and recording level surpasses its predecessor) will be appreciated by those who have believed since "Rebel Extravaganza" in the regenerative capabilities of the Norwegian duo, but on their artistic quality and their opportunism, I allow myself to freely disagree.

And the waters flow full of lies....