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ATARAXIA Given the imagery glimpsed before release, and the themes revealed, I expected something consistently dark, given that it somehow concerns a secret, unspoken ritual on a legendary island, but that isn’t the case at all. After the delirious dementia of ‘Paris Spleen’ they have returned to more traditional sounds, on the modern side of their repertoire, but with a few interesting twists. ‘The Song Of Axieros’ quickly reeks of creepy mystery, with male vocals of a deep monastic variety used rhythmically like percussion, offset by chimes and female vocals quoting from ancient Welsh texts for some reason. It has an introspective religious feel, with a deep moaning female voice behind the spoken, conspiratorial style and we must presume it’s setting up the story, but I have no idea how or why. Grandly building, it is ominous for all the evident fragility of our host. ‘The Nine Rituals’ is far livelier, with brilliant drumming throughout, as the rituals are introduced, where the ninth has no name and cannot be spoken. Around that news centre the twisting drums, dour vocals and flickering guitar in an exciting encounter which is followed by the title track, one of their thoughtful slow songs, where the acoustic and keyboards mingle softly with a high spiritual feel and it certainly make sense that they regard this as a follow-on from Lost Atlantis. The astringent vocal intensity of ‘Ochram’ with melodically precise ululation is another stirring song, accentuating its piquant base, although it seems to end as though they’ve run out of steam, moving into a placid, jangling ‘Therma’ which drifts by pleasantly, if entirely unremarkable, but then the peaceable, scrumptious ‘Efestia’ emerges from still religiosity and into chilled, clear beauty with more percussive flourishes. ‘Ebur’ is even more dramatic, with glorious depth behind the stern vocal outpouring. ‘Kaviria’ jiggles sensitively, increasingly claustrophobic Eastern breathiness, then more enchanting emotional balm in the soaring ‘Fengari’, with weird bleepy noises trailing off. ‘Klethra’ is a brilliantly hectoring piece with the vocals ranged around some lightly impudent guitar, and then more staggered percussive rolls keep a trim ‘Gria Vathra’ dancing forward, buffeted by eastern elegance and dazzling in a simple thrust. The way they choose to use drumming is wonderful, and it would be great to see more of that coming through, adding extra physical impact. The idly swirling ‘Migratio Animae’ is another classic slice of modern Ataraxia, vocals ballooning over twitching guitar and serenely sugary synth, and this is a tremulous slice of vocal splendour over hushed, lush instrumentation that is simply stunning, even when moving into a slower, darker spell. ‘Wings (I Had Once)’ is a piano and vocal shock after all of that, unwinding coyly, then flooding outwards. ‘La Fame E La Danza’ closes in an altogether more tranquil way, but even at their most restful they can seem like Qntal with explosive strapped to them, so it starts to get heated vocally over dapper drums but it does ends rather oddly. No band is an island, but we have here a superb record that can catch you unawares, either making your heart sing, or teasing out the occasional puzzled frown before slapping you with its charms while taking your breath away. It’s so full of ideas you’ll discover more and more as you go through, and that’s the nature of musical adventure.
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