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When I recently went to
a concert of The Old Dead Tree, it was only based on my intuition and
some good rumours. It was kicking to find out that it is indeed a
fantastic band. I was immediately convinced that these men have some
great talents ! Today I have listened about ten times to every song and
I can tell you that we have an extra ordinary release in our hands.
The Old Dead Tree was founded back in 1997 and the
first thing they released was a mini CD ‘The blossom’. In 1999 bad luck
struck these guys when their drummer and close friend committed
suicide. This intruding occurrence led to the creation of the concept
album ‘The nameless disease’. It’s a painful cry that illustrates the
process of assimilation in all its phases. Deep emotions in a crucible
kind of music which will haunt you forever. Above all ‘The nameless
disease’ contains a large amount of surging power going from gothic wave
to dark rock and extreme metal. The voice of Manuel is the catalyst
between all this, one moment caressing as a trembling leaf, the next
moment screaming as a tormented soul. But let’s not underrate the power
of them surrounding musicians, always covering these mournful lyrics
with a variety of not that simple breaks.
The four first songs of the album tell us about
unbelief and anger. In ‘We cry as one’ I notice some Cult influences in
the slightly oriental sound of the guitars. The versatile voice of
singer Manuel is used in many ways : fragile and bright, screamy
blackened and grunting. But there is always a place for a crying guitar
solo. These guitar sounds echo towards an infinite sky at the end of
‘How could you?’ (psychedelic). The longest track on the CD ‘It’s the
same for everyone’ sends shivers down my spine from the beginning till
the end. With its epic character, grunt mixed with clean vocals an
lingering melancholy I’m beginning to understand former comparisons with
Opeth and Anathema.
Energetic riffs, mourning vocals, instrumental
eruptions and fine guitarwork, it keeps on coming to you in a glorious
way. Acoustic guitars and an unanswered phone open the way to the
eminent epilogue ‘The bathroom monologue’ where spoken words are
followed by a desperate cry in a Pink Floydish way. Thoughts spoken to
a mirror, balancing on the thin line between reality and wishful
thinking. Excellent !
This CD is going to make it to my personal favourites
list of 2003. Everybody who’s going to the Katatonia gigs these days,
be in time for this excellent supporting act.
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