Eve (Standard Edition)

Chronique

For their fourth long-playing album and sixth official release overall, Italy's UFOmammut have chosen to compose a single 45-minute work consisting of five movements, all of them dedicated to the first woman and mother of mankind, Eve. Make that the scariest, trippiest, spaciest, heaviest, and largely unintelligible musical creation ever devoted to the the old gal, because UFOmammut saw no reason to stray here from the lysergic cosmic doom template that's served them well from the very start of their career. So it's not surprising when, after rumbling out of the airless and soundless void with devastating tectonic shock waves, "Eve, Pt. 1" quickly crumbles into barely audible musical pulsars that proceed to slowly, painstakingly escalate with ever increasing hypnotic swells and vocalist Urlo's ultra-distorted howls over 14 minutes. The ten-minute "Pt. 2" forgoes vocals altogether while conjuring the creepiest, most frightening and malevolent riffs and melodies imaginable, but eventually concedes the stage to a pair of shorter movements in the inexorable and crushing heaviness of "Pt. 3" and the more subtle grooves and echo-laden singing of "Pt. 4." Finally, the 14-minute "Pt. 5" brings Eve to a close with another trance-inducing interstellar voyage, taking the listener from portentous power chords laden with feedback stardust to the frayed, decaying molecules of sonic dark matter. All five parts, despite their daunting dynamic variety, flow together seamlessly and probably comprise the Italians' strongest project since their 2002 magnum opus, Snailking, and not even that vivid planetary invasion provided as cohesive and powerfully cinematic experience as does Eve. Recommended for bong-toting space cadets everywhere.
© Eduardo Rivadavia /TiVo