#lucaturillislionerhapsodyoffire_ — Public Fediverse posts

Seven Spires – A Fortress Called Home Review

By sentynel

One of symphonic metal’s struggles as a genre is that it turns out writing a symphony is hard. Just slapping some string synths on generic metalcore and calling it a day does not Beethoven make. Which was why Seven Spires’ glow-up on Emerald Seas was so striking. Not that debut Solveig hadn’t shown promise, but suddenly their fancy music education and performance skills combined to produce something genuinely worthy of being called “symphonic.” Gods of Debauchery proved it wasn’t a fluke (while also proving they can write out-and-out pop catchiness too with “Lightbringer,” which—fight me—is a great song, but you wouldn’t want the whole album to sound like that). That was a pandemic project, following the year after Emerald Seas. Three years and fewer distractions later, we come to A Fortress Called Home.

It’s immediately clear this is still the Seven Spires we expect. The writing is lush and complex. The emotional impact has always been first and foremost in their writing, and A Fortress Called Home is no different. Songs like “Love’s Souvenir” or “The Old Hurt of Being Left Behind” tug firmly on your heartstrings. They’re great at contrasting soaring highs and crashing lows. Catchiness follows from interesting, creative hooks and twists, not from big cheap choruses. It’s never content to sit around in a single genre, despite the obvious power metal base. In particular, there are some definite death/doom influences here, perhaps more so than on previous records, with lots of harsh vocals and downbeat, downtrodden riffs (“Impossible Tower,” “Where Sorrows Bear My Name”). And the orchestration threaded through all of it is key to its success, and never too busy or too cheesy.

So what’s missing? Well, not much. My most significant gripe is we don’t quite get a category 5 banger on the scale of, say, “Every Crest.” There are some category 4s—”Songs Upon Wine-Stained Tongues,” “The Old Hurt of Being Left Behind,” “No Place For Us”— they just doesn’t quite hit the heights they’re capable of. And I do miss the editing from the 50-minute Emerald Seas. This isn’t as long as Gods of Debauchery, and cutting it down would require some fairly brutal choices—there’s no bad songs here. But I took a little longer to appreciate penultimate track “House of Lies” than it deserved due to slight listen fatigue creeping in at the one-hour mark. I also wish the orchestration was real, or that they used slightly more natural-sounding samples. I recognize that hiring an orchestra isn’t exactly cheap, but there’s a real violin on “Love’s Souvenir” and it makes such a difference.1

The star of the show is once again Adrienne Cowan on clean and harsh vocals (not to mention the keyboards, songwriting, and orchestration). She’s a brilliant singer with versatile cleans and heavy, enunciated growls, and carries a lot of the album’s emotional weight with panache. I also really like the [(Luca) Turilli(‘s) / Lione] Rhapsody [of Fire] flavored duet with a male vocalist on “Songs Upon Wine-Stained Tongues.” Guitarist Jack Kosto (who also handles the very complex production work) is impressive, with highlights like the lyrical guitar on “No Place For Us” and regular stylish solos. Bassist Peter de Reyna gets a few spotlight moments, like the end of “Impossible Tower”, and deserves more. Finally, percussion has a lot of work to do to carry music with this much going on, and departing drummer Chris Dovas does a great job matching the ever-changing moods.

A Fortress Called Home doesn’t quite equal the absolute best Seven Spires are capable of, but that’s as far as the negatives go here. Once again they’ve produced an emotional, captivating record filled with unexpected twists. I’ve had half the record stuck in my head at once since I started listening, all of it earned by clever writing and great performances. Existing fans should find a lot to love here. And if you’re a fan of anything even vaguely power/melodeath/prog flavored, or like symphonic metal in theory but not in execution, and have never checked out Seven Spires, now is the time.

Rating: Very Good
DR: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Frontiers Music
Websites: sevenspiresband.com | facebook.com/sevenspiresband
Releases Worldwide: June 21st, 2024

#LucaTurilliSLioneRhapsodyOfFire_ #2024 #35 #AFortressCalledHome #AmericanMetal #FrontiersMusic #Jun24 #PowerMetal #Review #Reviews #Rhapsody #SevenSpires #SymphonicMetal

Fleshgod Apocalypse – Opera Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Opera, the fifth full-length LP from the Italian symphonic death metal juggernaut Fleshgod Apocalypse, marks the band’s first record since 2019’s Veleno. Some may recall that in 2021, the band’s mastermind, Francesco Paoli (bass and vocals), suffered from a mountain climbing accident that landed him in the hospital. During the harrowing ordeal that followed, he and the band had little sense of the future of Fleshgod Apocalypse. It should come as no surprise that Francesco and the others burst into a creative frenzy upon improving and returning to band activities. From the remnants of this tragedy, Opera was born.

Opera marks a significant change in Fleshgod Apocalypse’s trajectory. Inspired by the Opéra Lyrique, a genre less grandiose than the opera you’re thinking of, Opera contains episodic dialogues or confessionals with the imaginary characters of Francesco’s episode. To accomplish this, Veronica Bordacchini—featured on the album’s cover—was enlisted to play the role of these companions: death, life, and hope.1 And while the band has not changed, with Francesco Ferrini (Piano), Fabio Bartoletti (Guitar), and Eugene Ryabchenko (“Drums”) filling out the act, Opera is not your Monarch’s Fleshgod Apocalypse.

The core of Fleshgod Apocalypse’s sound hasn’t changed markedly. Blasty, heavily replaced drums prop up guitars and orchestras that trade places as the leading musical characters. The mix sports audible but unremarkable bass, and Paoli’s guttural vocal attack over the top. In its peak—and most recognizable—form, Fleshgod Apocalypse is fast, heavy, and evokes Europe in the time when wigs were a common fashion accessory, with the guitars carrying melodies and engaging in Vivaldian gymnastics2 (“Morphine Walz”). Elsewhere, the sound is dark, dramatic, and heavy, utilizing grinding drums and blasting French horns or orchestral hits to create an undeniable tension (“At War with My Soul,” which recalls the excellent horn compositions from King). The songwriting isn’t progressive, but it sure as hell is technical, with ridiculous riffs that, at their best, dance on a bed made by lush orchestrations (“Per Aspera Ad Astra”). And when it’s less successful, the guitars take a Nightwishian backseat, leaving the orchestrations to do the heavy lifting.

Rather than being the “darker” or “heavier” album bands often tout in meaningless interviews, Opera is a significantly tighter and—Padre, perdonami—poppier record than its predecessors. Opera features short songs, including an instrumental intro and outro, and the album clocks in at a tight 44 minutes. This means there are eight episodes, none longer than roughly five and a half minutes. But rather than just tightening the writing, Paoli and company also made new stylistic choices that differentiate Opera from its predecessors. “I Can Never Die” features a piano breakdown of the chorus and a Eurovision key change. “Matricide 8.21” starts sounding like a Nightwish song from Once; no double kick, 4/4 time signature, and heavy on Veronica’s voice. More tellingly, the song also features simple melodies carried on the guitars, with almost no neoclassical affectation. Moments like these speak to a significant perspective shift.

The other major change is, as noted above, how Veronica’s voice becomes a shifting character throughout Opera. Rather than sticking to her opera soprano—as she did so charmingly on “Paramour” from King—Bordacchini performs different vocal interpretations meant to embody different characters. On “I Can Never Die,” she (mostly) eschews her formal technique for a straight tone, while “Bloodclock” finds her straddling an unaffected pop approach with operatic emphases. Veronica’s most effective and unexpected performance comes on “Morphine Waltz,” where she adopts an almost punky scream like Agnete Kjølsrud (Djerv). Of course, opera is her greatest strength and part of Fleshgod Apocalypse’s core idiom, and she does that frequently and well. But while Opera showcases Veronica’s ample gifts, the use of straight tone and poppy cleans unexpectedly pushes Fleshgod into territory fitting of Napalm Records.

The combination of all these elements gives the album an undeniably poppy feel. The varied songwriting that, at times, leans into more heartfelt and balladesque territory (“Till Death Do Us Part”) or seems to be drawing from pop writing (“I Can Never Die,” “Matricide 8.21,” “Bloodclock”). Prominent melodic vocals from Veronica, with clean, tight songwriting, give the creeping sensation that Fleshgod is trying to take a Nightwishian turn toward more accessible, less grandiose music. The final element is Opera’s slick and polished presentation. Working with Jacob Hansen again, the album clocks in at a DR6 and is loud, but well-balanced. Even though King’s drum tone was better, Hansen’s grip on Fleshgod’s sound is firmer on Opera. He deftly handles Ferrini’s orchestrations and helps the vocal arrangements to ascend into the same stratosphere as Turilli’s excellent vocal compositions. The choral parts are huge and lend operatic gravity to the band’s sound.

Opera does an excellent job of balancing the old and the new, and most importantly, it justifies its artistic choices. Framing Opera as a lyric opera is a brilliant strategic move because it discredits criticisms of a poppier sound by foregrounding the artist’s vision and post-traumatic growth of what was a harrowing time for Paoli and his compatriots. Furthermore, Opera is simultaneously and undeniably fun, heady, and technically impressive. While I suspect Fleshgod Apocalypse ‘lost’ its trvest death metal fans after Oracles, I can see Opera being a divisive record for current fans because of its novel traits. And yet, I find it hard to argue with quality and the ability to take a base of brutal death metal and forge a product this addictive and immediate. Despite not being in love with the idea of a future Fleshgod that eschews its brutal base and embraces more simplistic melodies and composition, that day has not yet arrived. So, while I miss King’s grand opera aspirations, I admire the execution of the unified vision from which the album benefits.

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kb/s mp33
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: fleshgodapocalypse.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fleshgodapocalypse
Release Date: August 23rd, 2024

#LucaTurilliSLioneRhapsodyOfFire_ #2024 #40 #Aug24 #Blog #DeathMetal #Djerv #FleshgodApocalypse #King #Nightwish #NuclearBlastRecords #Opera #orchestralDeathMetal #Review #SyymphonicDeathMetal #Veleno

Fleshgod Apocalypse – Opera Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Opera, the fifth full-length LP from the Italian symphonic death metal juggernaut Fleshgod Apocalypse, marks the band’s first record since 2019’s Veleno. Some may recall that in 2021, the band’s mastermind, Francesco Paoli (bass and vocals), suffered from a mountain climbing accident that landed him in the hospital. During the harrowing ordeal that followed, he and the band had little sense of the future of Fleshgod Apocalypse. It should come as no surprise that Francesco and the others burst into a creative frenzy upon improving and returning to band activities. From the remnants of this tragedy, Opera was born.

Opera marks a significant change in Fleshgod Apocalypse’s trajectory. Inspired by the Opéra Lyrique, a genre less grandiose than the opera you’re thinking of, Opera contains episodic dialogues or confessionals with the imaginary characters of Francesco’s episode. To accomplish this, Veronica Bordacchini—featured on the album’s cover—was enlisted to play the role of these companions: death, life, and hope.1 And while the band has not changed, with Francesco Ferrini (Piano), Fabio Bartoletti (Guitar), and Eugene Ryabchenko (“Drums”) filling out the act, Opera is not your Monarch’s Fleshgod Apocalypse.

The core of Fleshgod Apocalypse’s sound hasn’t changed markedly. Blasty, heavily replaced drums prop up guitars and orchestras that trade places as the leading musical characters. The mix sports audible but unremarkable bass, and Paoli’s guttural vocal attack over the top. In its peak—and most recognizable—form, Fleshgod Apocalypse is fast, heavy, and evokes Europe in the time when wigs were a common fashion accessory, with the guitars carrying melodies and engaging in Vivaldian gymnastics2 (“Morphine Walz”). Elsewhere, the sound is dark, dramatic, and heavy, utilizing grinding drums and blasting French horns or orchestral hits to create an undeniable tension (“At War with My Soul,” which recalls the excellent horn compositions from King). The songwriting isn’t progressive, but it sure as hell is technical, with ridiculous riffs that, at their best, dance on a bed made by lush orchestrations (“Per Aspera Ad Astra”). And when it’s less successful, the guitars take a Nightwishian backseat, leaving the orchestrations to do the heavy lifting.

Rather than being the “darker” or “heavier” album bands often tout in meaningless interviews, Opera is a significantly tighter and—Padre, perdonami—poppier record than its predecessors. Opera features short songs, including an instrumental intro and outro, and the album clocks in at a tight 44 minutes. This means there are eight episodes, none longer than roughly five and a half minutes. But rather than just tightening the writing, Paoli and company also made new stylistic choices that differentiate Opera from its predecessors. “I Can Never Die” features a piano breakdown of the chorus and a Eurovision key change. “Matricide 8.21” starts sounding like a Nightwish song from Once; no double kick, 4/4 time signature, and heavy on Veronica’s voice. More tellingly, the song also features simple melodies carried on the guitars, with almost no neoclassical affectation. Moments like these speak to a significant perspective shift.

The other major change is, as noted above, how Veronica’s voice becomes a shifting character throughout Opera. Rather than sticking to her opera soprano—as she did so charmingly on “Paramour” from King—Bordacchini performs different vocal interpretations meant to embody different characters. On “I Can Never Die,” she (mostly) eschews her formal technique for a straight tone, while “Bloodclock” finds her straddling an unaffected pop approach with operatic emphases. Veronica’s most effective and unexpected performance comes on “Morphine Waltz,” where she adopts an almost punky scream like Agnete Kjølsrud (Djerv). Of course, opera is her greatest strength and part of Fleshgod Apocalypse’s core idiom, and she does that frequently and well. But while Opera showcases Veronica’s ample gifts, the use of straight tone and poppy cleans unexpectedly pushes Fleshgod into territory fitting of Napalm Records.

The combination of all these elements gives the album an undeniably poppy feel. The varied songwriting that, at times, leans into more heartfelt and balladesque territory (“Till Death Do Us Part”) or seems to be drawing from pop writing (“I Can Never Die,” “Matricide 8.21,” “Bloodclock”). Prominent melodic vocals from Veronica, with clean, tight songwriting, give the creeping sensation that Fleshgod is trying to take a Nightwishian turn toward more accessible, less grandiose music. The final element is Opera’s slick and polished presentation. Working with Jacob Hansen again, the album clocks in at a DR6 and is loud, but well-balanced. Even though King’s drum tone was better, Hansen’s grip on Fleshgod’s sound is firmer on Opera. He deftly handles Ferrini’s orchestrations and helps the vocal arrangements to ascend into the same stratosphere as Turilli’s excellent vocal compositions. The choral parts are huge and lend operatic gravity to the band’s sound.

Opera does an excellent job of balancing the old and the new, and most importantly, it justifies its artistic choices. Framing Opera as a lyric opera is a brilliant strategic move because it discredits criticisms of a poppier sound by foregrounding the artist’s vision and post-traumatic growth of what was a harrowing time for Paoli and his compatriots. Furthermore, Opera is simultaneously and undeniably fun, heady, and technically impressive. While I suspect Fleshgod Apocalypse ‘lost’ its trvest death metal fans after Oracles, I can see Opera being a divisive record for current fans because of its novel traits. And yet, I find it hard to argue with quality and the ability to take a base of brutal death metal and forge a product this addictive and immediate. Despite not being in love with the idea of a future Fleshgod that eschews its brutal base and embraces more simplistic melodies and composition, that day has not yet arrived. So, while I miss King’s grand opera aspirations, I admire the execution of the unified vision from which the album benefits.

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kb/s mp33
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: fleshgodapocalypse.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fleshgodapocalypse
Release Date: August 23rd, 2024

#LucaTurilliSLioneRhapsodyOfFire_ #2024 #40 #Aug24 #Blog #DeathMetal #Djerv #FleshgodApocalypse #King #Nightwish #NuclearBlastRecords #Opera #orchestralDeathMetal #Review #SyymphonicDeathMetal #Veleno

Fleshgod Apocalypse – Opera Review

By Angry Metal Guy

Opera, the fifth full-length LP from the Italian symphonic death metal juggernaut Fleshgod Apocalypse, marks the band’s first record since 2019’s Veleno. Some may recall that in 2021, the band’s mastermind, Francesco Paoli (bass and vocals), suffered from a mountain climbing accident that landed him in the hospital. During the harrowing ordeal that followed, he and the band had little sense of the future of Fleshgod Apocalypse. It should come as no surprise that Francesco and the others burst into a creative frenzy upon improving and returning to band activities. From the remnants of this tragedy, Opera was born.

Opera marks a significant change in Fleshgod Apocalypse’s trajectory. Inspired by the Opéra Lyrique, a genre less grandiose than the opera you’re thinking of, Opera contains episodic dialogues or confessionals with the imaginary characters of Francesco’s episode. To accomplish this, Veronica Bordacchini—featured on the album’s cover—was enlisted to play the role of these companions: death, life, and hope.1 And while the band has not changed, with Francesco Ferrini (Piano), Fabio Bartoletti (Guitar), and Eugene Ryabchenko (“Drums”) filling out the act, Opera is not your Monarch’s Fleshgod Apocalypse.

The core of Fleshgod Apocalypse’s sound hasn’t changed markedly. Blasty, heavily replaced drums prop up guitars and orchestras that trade places as the leading musical characters. The mix sports audible but unremarkable bass, and Paoli’s guttural vocal attack over the top. In its peak—and most recognizable—form, Fleshgod Apocalypse is fast, heavy, and evokes Europe in the time when wigs were a common fashion accessory, with the guitars carrying melodies and engaging in Vivaldian gymnastics2 (“Morphine Walz”). Elsewhere, the sound is dark, dramatic, and heavy, utilizing grinding drums and blasting French horns or orchestral hits to create an undeniable tension (“At War with My Soul,” which recalls the excellent horn compositions from King). The songwriting isn’t progressive, but it sure as hell is technical, with ridiculous riffs that, at their best, dance on a bed made by lush orchestrations (“Per Aspera Ad Astra”). And when it’s less successful, the guitars take a Nightwishian backseat, leaving the orchestrations to do the heavy lifting.

Rather than being the “darker” or “heavier” album bands often tout in meaningless interviews, Opera is a significantly tighter and—Padre, perdonami—poppier record than its predecessors. Opera features short songs, including an instrumental intro and outro, and the album clocks in at a tight 44 minutes. This means there are eight episodes, none longer than roughly five and a half minutes. But rather than just tightening the writing, Paoli and company also made new stylistic choices that differentiate Opera from its predecessors. “I Can Never Die” features a piano breakdown of the chorus and a Eurovision key change. “Matricide 8.21” starts sounding like a Nightwish song from Once; no double kick, 4/4 time signature, and heavy on Veronica’s voice. More tellingly, the song also features simple melodies carried on the guitars, with almost no neoclassical affectation. Moments like these speak to a significant perspective shift.

The other major change is, as noted above, how Veronica’s voice becomes a shifting character throughout Opera. Rather than sticking to her opera soprano—as she did so charmingly on “Paramour” from King—Bordacchini performs different vocal interpretations meant to embody different characters. On “I Can Never Die,” she (mostly) eschews her formal technique for a straight tone, while “Bloodclock” finds her straddling an unaffected pop approach with operatic emphases. Veronica’s most effective and unexpected performance comes on “Morphine Waltz,” where she adopts an almost punky scream like Agnete Kjølsrud (Djerv). Of course, opera is her greatest strength and part of Fleshgod Apocalypse’s core idiom, and she does that frequently and well. But while Opera showcases Veronica’s ample gifts, the use of straight tone and poppy cleans unexpectedly pushes Fleshgod into territory fitting of Napalm Records.

The combination of all these elements gives the album an undeniably poppy feel. The varied songwriting that, at times, leans into more heartfelt and balladesque territory (“Till Death Do Us Part”) or seems to be drawing from pop writing (“I Can Never Die,” “Matricide 8.21,” “Bloodclock”). Prominent melodic vocals from Veronica, with clean, tight songwriting, give the creeping sensation that Fleshgod is trying to take a Nightwishian turn toward more accessible, less grandiose music. The final element is Opera’s slick and polished presentation. Working with Jacob Hansen again, the album clocks in at a DR6 and is loud, but well-balanced. Even though King’s drum tone was better, Hansen’s grip on Fleshgod’s sound is firmer on Opera. He deftly handles Ferrini’s orchestrations and helps the vocal arrangements to ascend into the same stratosphere as Turilli’s excellent vocal compositions. The choral parts are huge and lend operatic gravity to the band’s sound.

Opera does an excellent job of balancing the old and the new, and most importantly, it justifies its artistic choices. Framing Opera as a lyric opera is a brilliant strategic move because it discredits criticisms of a poppier sound by foregrounding the artist’s vision and post-traumatic growth of what was a harrowing time for Paoli and his compatriots. Furthermore, Opera is simultaneously and undeniably fun, heady, and technically impressive. While I suspect Fleshgod Apocalypse ‘lost’ its trvest death metal fans after Oracles, I can see Opera being a divisive record for current fans because of its novel traits. And yet, I find it hard to argue with quality and the ability to take a base of brutal death metal and forge a product this addictive and immediate. Despite not being in love with the idea of a future Fleshgod that eschews its brutal base and embraces more simplistic melodies and composition, that day has not yet arrived. So, while I miss King’s grand opera aspirations, I admire the execution of the unified vision from which the album benefits.

Rating: Great
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kb/s mp33
Label: Nuclear Blast Records
Websites: fleshgodapocalypse.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/fleshgodapocalypse
Release Date: August 23rd, 2024

#LucaTurilliSLioneRhapsodyOfFire_ #2024 #40 #Aug24 #Blog #DeathMetal #Djerv #FleshgodApocalypse #King #Nightwish #NuclearBlastRecords #Opera #orchestralDeathMetal #Review #SyymphonicDeathMetal #Veleno