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Rating: Let's do things right.
The Rituals are from Verona. Before this album, they released a devastating demo titled "Learn To Get Disgusted", raw and powerful both musically and lyrically. And also with the cover. Then five tracks ended up on a split with their friends Radio Riot Right Now!, from Vicenza. The sounds get cleaned up, but the essence remains the same. And now this album. On Wynona. I'm already trembling, oh dear, a pop record.
Not a chance. The beginning of Not A Tear vaguely reminds one of Introduction, the first track from the demo, and the album kicks off strongly. The sound is further cleaned up, highlighting the guitar work of Riccardo, who plays with a special style reminiscent of Pretty Girls Make Graves, a disorienting style; the singer of your band (a PUNK band, mind you) is yelling that he is young and shouldn’t hope to die (from Clean) and instead of hitting a big power chord using the full power of your Mesa Mark 3, what do you do? A riff.
It's precisely in this swing of aggression and weakness/paranoia/fear (compare 100 Razors with Clean, or Leave This Town In Flames with The Hand, The Knife And The Stab), roughness and melody (never predictable, mind you, don’t dare imagine the damn Thrice or some new nu-metal band that screams and then whispers and complains, that has nothing to do with it) that the Rituals' album is formed; it's so heartfelt that you can recognize the people they’re talking about in their songs without knowing them (let's see if you, like me, can figure out who Mr. Button Shaped Eyes is), it's an emotional album without being emo. It contains two acoustic tracks, which instead of breaking the rhythm, raise the heart another centimeter towards the throat before forcing you to open your mouth and sing, sing loudly a love song that talks about death.
Perhaps I got carried away, but since I got this album a year and a half ago, I listen to it an average of once a day.
Ok, fine, I’ll be "normal": they sound like Cap'n Jazz.
Tracklist
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