Vacuum
The Plutonium Cathedral

The Army Of Lovers was a brilliant idea but inevitably destined for a swift end, something built to amaze, certainly not to last. As fun as it may have been, that sinful brothel with Camilla, Michaela, and Dominika, not forgetting Jean-Pierre, had no other possible evolutions, and for its mastermind Alexander Bard, it was time to turn the page, start a new project, and put his songwriting talents and esoteric alchemy to the service of something different. Having closed the chapter on eurodance, the wigs that would make Antonio Conte green with envy, and the bizarre disguises, good old Alex turned towards a more elegant synth-pop with symphonic nuances: epic and grandiose, with a slightly dark touch, perfect to accompany his cosmic and mythological visions.

Thus, the Vacuum was born: 1997, two years after "Les Greatest Hits" had definitively closed the chapter on Army Of Lovers. Alexander Bard, dressed as Hitler for the occasion, was joined by fellow songwriter and producer Anders Wollbeck, Marina Schiptijenko as the female vocal colorist, and Matthias Lindblom as the frontman, practically a lighter, more restrained Dave Gahan. The result is a fascinating album, pompous and opulent in sound and lyrics but with great elegance, that puts aside the self-parodistic component that was the salt of the Army Of Lovers experience in favor of a seemingly ascetic and solemn stage representation, right from the cover. "The Plutonium Cathedral" is in its own way a pop masterpiece, well represented by a single of superb caliber like "I Breathe", one of those that captures even the most casual and distracted listener, perfect for representing the atmosphere that permeates this record, accompanied by many other excellent episodes like "Shape Of Things To Come", "Tin Soldiers" and "Pride In My Religion", sometimes embellished with learned quotations, such as the Moroder-like groove of "Parallel Universe" or that of "Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)" in the emphatic "Rise And Shine Olympia". A great strength of "The Plutonium Cathedral" is the slow tracks, offering enveloping and evocative atmospheres on the brink of Wagnerian grandeur, synth-pop with an operatic approach expressed perfectly in "Science Of The Sacred", the pathos of "Atlas Shrugged", the sanctity of "Prussia" and the choral opulence of "Illuminati" and "Closer Than The Holy Ghost".

"Shape Of Things To Come" and "Prussia" flaunt "spoken" bridges by Marina Schiptijenko in perfect Army Of Lovers style, a background to treasure and a delightful self-citation, and slightly less successful episodes that cross the thin line between scenic baroque and pompous gaudiness, like "A Woman Named America" and "Sign On The Skyline" almost go unnoticed, irrelevant, venial errors. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the Vacuum had an even shorter life than AOL; after the success of "The Plutonium Cathedral" and a second album, "Seance At The Chaebol", which went completely unnoticed, the quartet's paths diverged: Anders Wollbeck and Matthias Lindblom carried on the name with little success, focusing their activities on producing other artists, while Alexander and Marina dedicated themselves to a watered-down europop under the brand Bodies Without Organs; "The Plutonium Cathedral" thus remains the most complete and personal expression of this bizarre and chameleon-like Swedish artist's style, truly a great album, worthy of its illustrious creator.