FALL OF EMPYREAN

Arizona is on the march! These atmo-doom sculptors, languishing on the fringes of the American continent, have finally made their statement with a debut full-length hidden behind the enigmatic name "Anhedonia." However, as the song goes, "And what's left for me?.. A name, just a name." The charm of "Anhedonia" ends with its title -- the disc enters the player, the first notes of a piano intro crawl on pseudopods, an intrusive tremor scratching at the eardrums, then something growls and grumbles. Something displeased, petulant, viscerally foul... Strangely enough, despite dwelling in the vicinity of desert mirages, dunes, long-eared lizards, and the treacherous can-tahs from King's "Desperation," the creative engine of FALL OF EMPYREAN stubbornly runs on Swedish "gasoline": the melancholy Stockholm drizzle, the gloomy Gothenburg clouds, and the obligatory limited editions of early KATATONIA and OPHTHALAMIA. Even so, the imitation of the greats performed by these rural maestros sounds listless, devoid of spark, and when multiplied by the mediocre production, it positively makes you want to slip your sturdy neck into the noose depicted on the cover.