Dark Sanctuary - Cernunnos
There are aesthetic visions that are wrappings, sometimes with a smiling face, sometimes with large metastases, and walk around inside thoughts with a cloak full of moonbeams, like divine contact.
We see the human being with his nose in the air, contemplating, taking notes, dissecting nature in order to deliver it to a complicated God, Cernunnos, who for the Gauls bordered on perfection and fear at the same time. In the days of wisdom's absence, with technology replacing it, here is a handful of fair-faced warriors with optimised thoughts who write a treatise of continuous contact with density. They deposit riches in the mental paths and envelop us with the hope that they can be a path. Dark Sanctuary return, the timeless village, with their music as a rainbow within thunder and sighs, to put history on their side: they could not remain defenceless, suspended much less prone to surrender, and so here are eleven invocations to shake the old scribe with this homage to the Gallic deity. A cinematic flow, in a format that approximates a hypothetical cell attempting to describe the power of nature and the commentary of a God who listens and reveals his presence: on this contact the songs place their thoughts to make the enchantment breathe and make the useless bustle that lives outside of us absent. An album proclaiming attention, talent, the need to be hands that manipulate thought towards the absence of fragility, with the evocative force of slow spirals from frozen lungs. But the beat resists, insists, crosses the forest and caresses the rocks. By divine will. The French band closes the doors of excess, prepares mental instruments to join the musical ones and sets off, slowly, borrowing history and renting (perhaps perpetually) the desire to evacuate the electrified surroundings of the world that creates lights but not sparks. The latter you will find within these eleven steps, eleven prayers, eleven nets, eleven boats and eleven fishing nets.
As ambassadors of time, the five members of the band deliver us the transformation of territory and reflection as the affirmation of a need for development, the content and meaning of which the market would later overturn. Therefore, what we hear is precious: those who witness a different structure, set aside, cannot but have the utmost attention and appreciation. All this, then, it must be said, through musical flows that extend the breath in a powerful wave, which never wavers, never loses direction and indeed gains intensity like a smile without a watch.
The musical direction shows how nothing can be precluded to them: excellent musicians, great ideas, method and an enormous talent for making the images and sensations that spill, like lukewarm dripping, into the notes touchable.
Cernunnos is a ball of dust that swells and fattens the veins with references that annihilate laziness and disengagement because it is a work packaged to lead us to meditation, to experience an approach with the senses, a taking note of the continuous movement of creatures that are just a few metres away from us, in this circumference without consciousness that is now our planet. Anachronistic captains, and for this very reason perfect and essential, the songs sit in the belly and sway, and bring powerful images into our eyes: impossible to pretend because this shakes and regenerates the cells.
Songs like magnetic devices, bombastic, to build ingenuity and its thousand things, to move alchemy and lead it into spiritual flights of great depth, with contents formed to be a wrapping without the possibility of abatement. Everything is under the banner of great attention: instruments, melodies, noises, spiritual calls through invocations and continuous sprays of light spots, and the martial cadence of footprints on our souls. Inside a country mill, life becomes a superfine and elegant craft expression, with its sacred book being read while listening to this heavenly fruit. There are continuous entrances, permanences, and the melody, open-mouthed with succulent ingredients, is a highway of births and deaths, with fans and gusts of fog to swathe the gaudy sacredness. It is easy to label as Dark Ambient, or as Ethereal Music, but it would be like looking at the mountain without a bow of respect, because this is a complex work made of layers, smells, feet in the mud, and the instruments are workers in a design that has no genre and cannot, therefore, be defined in any way: in front of perfection one enjoys it without wasting time, without mental lucubrations that distract from pleasure. But what is relevant is the sonic consequentiality, as if every second of this album could not live without the others. And the chain dissolves to become a treatise of temporal inspection, with slow, wandering streams within cells of ancient memory, to allow the exit from all emotional ties of one's curriculum vitae. Dark Sanctuary perform a surgery in an open-air operating theatre, amidst melancholic leaves and craggy terrain glowing with moss, to celebrate the study of time in which madness has surprising motions of calm.
Dame Pandora's voice is a grape that descends on the skin of each sonic vibration, like a reflection before being an expression, being able to define the mastodontic display of colours and ancient fumes that come out of the instruments of the other four members of the group. She capitalises, scoring the winning goal, in the context of a team game that puts her in a position to do it again and again. Her breath seems to come out of a magic ampoule, preserved by the Lord of Secrets: one cannot resist her and one finds oneself in her uvula that vibrates to make us genuflect.
There are multiple tensions, dramas made manifest and wandering spectres that make listening a trembling but at the same time offer unknown excitements, extended and totally capable of giving a physical paralysis, while the mind flies, between stone houses and streams, in a time of which nothing is known... But there is no uncertainty, not a hesitation, which is why the old scribe listens with three glasses of absinthe within a circle made magical by these divine musics.
The best advice is to sit surrounded by ancient books, a randomly opened vocabulary, the light left out of your room, your eyes clinging to the will to be teleported to the place of the unknown, to the time of the unknown. And of wanting to have an experience that will be not only cathartic but above all revealing of sensory mappings that will change the meaning of your beats, because Cernunnos will eventually reveal itself to be a prodigious metamorphosis and not only will everything be changed but we will have thanks to give them each time with great emotion.
History has decided to put a hand on the shoulder of these French angels, with a handover, and these notes will become the kiss of enjoyments that will become promiscuous: there will be no resistance and perfection will have the face of these eleven fairies...
Alex Dematteis
Musicshockworld
Salford
10th March 2023
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