Cultus Sanguine, as the name would suggest, were always an entity destined to reach a cult status. While their last ever full length The Sun Of All Fears, was released in 1999, what a full length it was. And, let’s not forget, if more than 20 years have passed since a band’s last release, a follow up, any follow up, would bump up their status immediately, quality be damned! Isn’t that why we all still keep on waiting for the next Necrophagist?
But I concur. Dust Once Alive begins with an utterly mouthwateringly nefarious intro. Kind of my beloved pre-2004 Théâtres des Vampires meets Abysmal Grief. Man, Italians mix in their gothic and symphonic, black and doom, unlike anyone else. It’s such a distinctive sound.
While some will undoubtedly cry out ‘dark metal!’, I’m one of those purists who deny the existence of such a genre. Just a two word description? Pshaw! I need at least five! Doesn’t ‘depressive symphonic blackened doom sexy metal’ (dsBDSM from hereafter) sound infinitely better?
And this dsBDSM album delivers and over-delivers on the name. Not only is it utterly heart wrenching (hello, vocals), it’s also very very sexy. Towards the end of track two, Days Fall From Life, the grandiose malignant keyboards made me, to use a colloquialism, ‘nut’. Now, I’m thankfully spared from nut allergies (for now), so worry not, it was a very very pleasant surprise.
However, there’s a problem with Dust Once Alive, and it’s its length. By the time I made it to the titular track four, I was already beginning to get slightly bored. I feel like Cultus Sanguine has tried to cram in 26 years of missed material into one album, and it just ends up sounding a little same-y in the end. The synth solos are truly the highlight, but I just get tired waiting for them. A little more atmosphere in the remainder would have gone a long way.
Facing Vulture Season, the middling, is a sudden gulp of the metaphorical fast juice (or the very physical Red Bull). Yet, it under-delivers. It’s just like the previous four, but sped up. Kind of like when you really want to watch a YouTube video but only have 10 minutes to get ready and you haven’t even showered yet, so you put the video on 2x speed and spend the entire time laughing it off rather than getting ready. And by ‘you’ I mean ‘me’. Anywho, it has a cool synth solo at the end.
Rather than continuing the fast juice crescendo, the following, Forgiveness Is Human, returns to business as usual. Perhaps, it’s the come down – a quick one once you realise the Red Bull is actually a Bull Dog. But, despite that, and despite the corny title, it still throws heavy punches, dsBDSM style. It even has a visual kei/jrock flair to it. I did for a moment think I was listening to Moi Dix Mois but with entirely different vocals.
Then the intro to Gli Uomini Vuoti kicks in and I up the score from my initial 6.5/10 to 7/10. This is the best piece in the album, hands down. Now, I absolutely don’t know Italian, but I do think this album would have benefitted from more pieces in Italian. The evil vampiric atmosphere is unmatched here, and it seems like the vocalist also feels much more comfortable. It warms up my heart. The slow oppressive synths also match the vocals so so beautifully. More of this please!
The next one, Sister Solitude Saves, has a really impressive progression. Starting quite mildly, quite underwhelming, halfway through, it develops a sinister grandiosity so far unheard of in this release. I was smiling all the way through. Not Joker-esque, but in pure unadulterated bliss. The things I’d give up for music with such evil synths – and I don’t even have to give up anything with Cultus Sanguine and Abysmal Grief both still around.
And then we’re off to an epic yet quite unimpressive ending. At the end, I’m in two minds about Dust Once Alive. I love it, but I do think it needs something more. More ambient passages, more synth-only interludes, more Italian lyrics. It is, however, a breath of fresh air, and showcases a mastery of an easily messed up and easily overcheesed up sound. It’s a fine line that Cultus Sanguine doesn’t even toy with, except perhaps within the title of a certain track number six.
(7/10 The Flâneur)
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