Sol Invictus
The Hill of Crosses

And after a review on PGR and one on the punky Crisis, we return to ourselves: to apocalyptic folk, just to not lose the habit!

We return to Sol Invictus. "The Hill of Crosses" is the 2000 album. Tony Wakeford is keen to emphasize that the work represents the right combination of innovation and tradition: in reality, we find ourselves facing the usual (yet another!) Sol Invictus album, with the aggravating factor, however, of not being on par with the just previous albums, which somehow, not through innovation, but with inspiration, managed to keep alive an overused formula over the years.

By 2000 it is now impossible to count the releases penned by Wakeford, so it's pointless to review the situation. Like many other Sol Invictus albums, it is not a bad album, but it does not hit the mark as in other works, even though Wakeford plays more or less the same cards as always. And the cards played are by no means trivial: in "The Hill of Crosses" we probably find the best formation of Sol Invictus. Thus, we have Matt Howden (violin), Eric Roger (trumpet), Sally Doherty (flute, vocals), Karl Blake (bass), Jane Howden (vocals), and Renée Rosen (piano). Yet we do not find the monumentality that these same musicians were able to confer to previous albums.

Speaking of innovation, perhaps only in two circumstances can we notice some novelties. The first case is "December Song": entirely sung by Doherty and massaged by Roger's sly trumpet, the track stands out from Wakeford's rigid logic to embrace the smoky territories of a late-night jazz club (Wakeford himself, a jazz music lover, says he thought of Chet Baker, an artist he admired). Nothing shocking, but it's quite strange to hear Portishead flirting with Sol Invictus!

The other novelty, if it can be called such, is the choice to reinterpret a classic of Lithuanian folk tradition: in the form of "Hundreds" it sounds like a typical Sol Invictus track, but at least the attempt to momentarily move away from the beloved English tradition is commendable (the reasons for the choice are due to the nationality of Wakeford's wife, who is Lithuanian, and the desire to pay tribute to the strength of a tradition that survived the passage of Nazism first and then Communism).

For the rest, "The Hill of Crosses" is the usual journey towards the end of the world that Wakeford has by now accustomed us to after years and years of unwavering apocalyptic folk.

Even though it has a more combative spirit than in the past (the powerful explosions of violin/trumpet/distorted bass are mighty, while the roar of war drums returns often), certain sacred atmospheres inherited from the immediate predecessor "In the Garden Green" persist, even if pursued here with less conviction. And so a solemn organ and sweet female warbles animate the introductory "Chime the Day" and the inevitable counterpart "Chime the Night", this time not placed at the end: a way to preserve the circular scheme on which Sol Invictus albums are generally built while leaving the honor of closing the dance to the formidable title track, the only one in the lot that can boast the status of a classic (even if, in reality, it will only appear in the concert setlist for a few more years). In any case, "The Hill of Crosses" remains an excellent track, certainly among the most evocative on the album: embellished by Roger's solemn trumpet, the track, a true anthem to the End, perfectly embodies the essence of Sol Invictus. The image is that of a tragic Wakeford, guitar in hand, standing on a hill dotted with crosses, a bard of human afflictions, among the blood, skulls, weapons, and shattered banners of humanity devoted to massacre, and a threatening sky that will soon sweep everything away with flashes, whirlwinds, and torrential rain.

The other tracks are no less notable, and taken one by one, each seems to hold its own reason for being. Perhaps what penalizes listening to the whole is the excessive similarity of the episodes, which tend to resemble each other, especially in repeating the scheme that sees the two voices (Wakeford's and Doherty's) chasing and feeding each other the verses.

Furthermore, we must admit that Tony is not quite at the height of his form, more gloomy than usual vocally, more anonymous in the guitar strumming. No complaints for his travel companions though: Howden's whistling violin is by now a classic of the Sol Invictus sound, while Doherty, with her splendid voice, saves Wakeford's skin on more than one occasion.

As I always say in these cases: a good album, but not the best of Sol Invictus. Still recommended to all fans of Wakeford's creation, who with the next album, "Thrones", will really attempt to bring a breath of fresh air, but once again, even in that case, not fully convincing.

Happy End.

"Past our pain and our losses

When we climb the hill of crosses

March through death to where love is

When you climb the hill of cross"