The Ishtar Gate, mighty entrance to the inner circles of the near mythical city of Babylon, its construction ordered by King Nebuchadnezzar the Great two and half millennia ago was one of the wonders of the ancient world, and remains an archaeological discovery worthy of an Indiana Jones movie, and I mean a good one, not one of the limping messes that followed the first two. ‘Ishtar Gate’ is also the suitably grand title for this album by Portuguese psyche rockers Stones of Babylon, a band I had not previously encountered, but whose CD I was more than happy to receive.
Weighing in at an epic fifty-five minutes for just six tracks, a proportion that would terrify fans of the pop charts who require sub three minute slices of interchangeable and disposable pap to play through the phones they view the world through, Stones of Babylon lay a further challenge by being an instrumental act, requiring the listener to actually listen and think to appreciate it, rather than just having it as a background buzz to talk over. Opener ‘Gilgamesh (…and Enkidu’s Demise)’ lays down the sonic challenge, heavy, bludgeoning riffs and beats creating a musical portrait of the legendary hero, and please, read the myth cycle and banish from your minds that turgid Marvel mess ‘The Eternals’. The track develops from a triumphant march to a funereal dirge, mirroring the story in which the once unconquerable warrior mourns the loss of his companion Enkidu.
‘Annunaki’ follows, initially more ethereal and mysterious, the eastern sounds that Led Zeppelin discovered in ‘Kashmir’ presenting the pantheon of gods that made up the Annunaki, first and foremost An and Ki, the god of heaven and the goddess of the earth. At times heavy, at times delicate, and at others unearthly, ‘Annunaki’ offers the listener the chance to consider the different facets of the god stories, even hinting at the modern conspiracy theory that the stories actually tell of the visitations of ancient space races. ‘Pazuzu’ comes next, complete with a sound-bite from the ‘Exorcist’ series of movies, albeit they pick the only decent part of ‘Exorcist: The Heretic’, namely Richard Burton’s sonorous narration. As might be expected by a piece dedicated to a demon, the track is laden with menace with via deep riffs and jarring tones; I’ve yet to catch the recent TV spin-off to the films, but if it is ever resurrected from cancellation hell it deserves this as the theme tune.
Title track ‘Ishtar Gate’ recreates the tones of the souk that would have been found behind its protection, the gentle idyll interspersed with sounds of conflict, portraying the upheavals the city went through in times of war, perhaps reflecting the controversy of its place in Berlin. Depending on your point of view it is either a relic a looting empire or preserved from a land that has seen so much war and instability and could not protect this priceless artefact. This ebbing and flowing between the subtle and the battering continues at an even faster pace in ‘The Fall of Ur’, reflecting as it does the rise and fall of the ancient Sumerian city that became the centre of an empire before literally disappearing beneath the sands of time before being rediscovered, whilst the album closes with ‘Tigris and Euphrates’, the river system of ancient Persia and modern Syria and Iraq, and like a river, the song both refreshes with a gentle flow, before punishing with a flood of sound and fury.
I had not encountered Stones of Babylon before their album arrived at my door, and to say I’m massively impressed is a fair statement. The band are, without words, able to tell a story, each track reflecting variously mythology and history, and a fascinating area of interest at that. If the tales that the music reflects are unknown to you, do not let that stop you listening to ‘Ishtar Gate’ as simply excellent instrumental psyche-doom; if like me, you were at least a little familiar with the folklore, then you will appreciate it even more.
(8.5/10 Spenny)
Leave a Reply