Sundown
Glimmer

Forgive me once again, but lately, I feel like writing about Mathias Lodmalm. After all, when you have a collection of thousands of CDs covering over twenty years of listening, sometimes you end up uncovering drawers that were better left closed.

Among these drawers, there's one where I keep a couple of dusty CDs by Sundown, which – I see – are not in the almighty database. So let's fill the gap.

For the record, Sundown is a project born in 1997 from the minds of Mathias Lodmalm (former Cemetary) and Johnny Hagel (former Tiamat). The first, who slammed the door in Quorton's face and his Black Mark Productions, repurposed the last compositions written for his band to present them under a different name, despite the notorious label that spitefully released a handful of unfinished tracks passing them off as the last Cemetary album (the unimpressive “Last Confessions”); the second simply left Tiamat right after the memorable “Wildhoney.” Evidently, a strong communion of intent (or more likely circumstances) led their paths to cross, but those expecting a hybrid between the parent bands will be disappointed: “Design 19,” Sundown's debut, while belonging to the gothic/metal wave popular in those years, enhances the inclination towards the dark-wave of the eighties (Sisters of Mercy and Fields of Nephilim above all). Simple and straightforward tracks, therefore, verse/chorus, and a not-so-excellent level of inspiration, so much so that “Design 19” does not thrill and Hagel leaves.

But the tenacious Lodmalm seems to believe in the project and, now alone at the helm, decides to release in 1999 the second act of the Sundown saga, the “Glitter” I want to talk about today, and which seems a bit more enjoyable than its predecessor, even though this work doesn’t deserve to be recorded in the annals of music to be passed on to future generations.

With a renewed lineup, Lodmalm abandons the guitar to fully devote himself to programming and sampling, and it's no coincidence that the electronic component plays a leading role in this episode, even though guitar, bass, and drums are still well present.

So what does good Mathias Lodmalm give us this time? His Cemetary, especially in the latest releases, had shone with an easy-listening attitude that certainly made the proposal acceptable if we stop at the most significant work they produced, that “Sundown” that not coincidentally lends its name to the new project; that characteristic of catchiness was then emphasized in the debut of Sundown themselves. Along these grooves, “Glimmer” progresses further on the front of bastardization, embracing stylistic elements dear to industrial acts like Nine Inch Nails, Ministry, and White Zombie which at the time enjoyed great visibility even in more purely metal territories. Influences borrowed from the much-maligned Marilyn Manson will not be lacking, who – you can say what you like – was still able to produce noteworthy works in those years, capable of diverting the course of many bands until recently dedicated to metal orthodoxy.

If such a description may make many people's hair stand on end, I can nevertheless put forward two reasons why you readers might give the work reviewed here a chance.

1. Apart from the sympathy that I, the undersigned, have for a character like Lodmalm, it must be said that even in this modern guise, our protagonist manages to maintain a very personal approach which, if not exactly part of the “originality” category, at least falls within “an amusing variation on the theme”: indeed, Lodmalm remains the author of the music he has always loved to offer: he has his style, or better yet, his authorial sensitivity, which persists beyond the novelty's surface, remaining recognizable despite the various forms his message has taken over time. Lodmalm is born from gothic/death, and he remains faithful to these canons, even in a cyber-punk version. After all, he has further pushed forward the same tendency that in those years other illustrious colleagues (Paradise Lost, Tiamat, Moonspell, etc.) also experienced: the love for the catchy, radio-friendly piece, the inclination towards linear structures and catchy melodies, at the expense of the complexity faced during the early days. And he’s not doing it worse than others.

2. Indeed, Lodmalm, who certainly is not an electronic genius, nevertheless demonstrates a certain adeptness in maneuvering those damn machines, and let's be clear, Lodmalm is certainly not Fennesz, he's still a fool raised on bread and metal, therefore his electronic contraptions always aim to create a groove that, before becoming downright danceable, supports an energy still typically rock.

To understand “Glimmer,” therefore, there's a need to tune into those years: years where electronics had a strong appeal to many bands that had nothing to do with electronics. Hence the global influence of Mr. Reznor who, like few others, knew how to turn industrial music into something popular, making it familiar even to those bumbling metalheads. And Lodmalm, in this respect, is no worse than others.

Unfortunately for Lodmalm, he lacks the polish of the greats, and it's evident in the songwriting, suspended between that personal approach I mentioned above (which remains, however, a B-series writing) and the desire to stand for catchy solutions that make the listening experience smooth and at times even pleasant, despite everything. As, for instance, the opener “Lifetime” is pleasant, split between broken rhythms, edgy guitars, and a liberating chorus that wins even if it carries that sense of “generational clamor” in vogue at the time (the very clamor that spelled success for many nu-metal bands of the time, among whom it’s impossible not to think of the Deftones and their Simon Le Bon-style grand choruses). In this context, Lodmalm almost entirely aims for clean and sensual vocals, making the most of his limited capabilities, aided by effects of all sorts and generous in whispers that evoke the most morbid Reverend (forgive the expression). Sensualities that also recall the Ville Valo of HIM, another element to better understand Lodmalm’s stylistic turn in his 1999 Sundown (paradigmatic in this regard is the pseudo-hit “Halo,” which in its progress resembles an anticipation of the Katatonia of “Viva Emptiness”), even though Lodmalm sometimes returns to make his voice heard, as happens regularly in the overwhelming “Stab,” the album's most violent track.

Herman Ergstrom, nonetheless, defends himself well on six strings, enriching Sundown’s catchy sound with sturdy, square riffs, even though the violence of Ramstein is still far off (and that’s saying something). The rhythmic foundations masterfully handled by Chris Silver, divided between acoustic and synthetic drums, are solid, called to invigorate the well-crafted electronic patterns by Lodmalm.

In short, beyond Lodmalm’s direction, which still leaves its mark, it’s not that this “Glimmer” is a monument to originality, absorbing a series of clichés that certainly don’t make its listening something indispensable. But if you are not among those thinking this review has listed the worst music of the nineties; if you are instead among those who appreciated albums like “One Second” by Paradise Lost or “Skeleton Skeletron” by Tiamat; if – secretly – you don’t even disdain some of Manson, HIM, and Ramstein; if, finally, you are incurable nostalgics of certain sounds and maybe even were (in another life) fans of Cemetary (perhaps this is really too much), I see no reason why you shouldn't give this work a chance.

Why not?

P.S. After the release of this album, Lodmalm decided to disband Sundown with resignation and return with his tail between his legs to the metal of Cemetary (renamed Cemetary 1213 for the occasion), in case a few pennies could be scraped together from longtime fans...

In his squalor, a hero.