Over the past three albums, as a sonic archaeologist, the material in which Fátima has become mired has not dried up, it's actually thickened. To enter this maze of monstrosities, skewed heads and giant reptiles with slimy slime, you need to be transported in a spiritual elevator, which will take you to the threshold of an almost mystical trip. A U-turn is often possible, but not impossible, at your own risk.
Cerebral violence and music from beyond the grave.
Poisons sprayed on fleeces of myrrh, a thousand witches pouring the venom of vipers, the atmosphere is set and the ceremony can begin. The trio's signature style is immediately apparent, but the production is a little more subdued. The famous "back to basics" is avoided. The opening arpeggios sound exactly like an advert for a brand of bubble bath I'd rather not name - perhaps the secret foam of a lysergic substance?
In principle, each work affirms only itself and not a previous one. By this I mean that there is no continuity. Antmill is instantly recognizable (pardon the pun), with its relentless grunge riffs and elephantine rhythms. The Ravish Sitar Pedal is used again on Miracle of The Sun, where its delicate, unstable use finds its equilibrium, bringing out the oriental inflexions of which the band claims the blood-colored fabrics of the deities invoked, of which the cosmic virgin is the central character. Antoine Villetti's voice is as fascinating as ever, seeming to emanate from a volcano where the sulfur makes the timbre rough, breathing in heady perfumes. There's a certain redundancy in the sound before Cyclops Cave contrasts with the earlier tracks, but it's a shame that the bass on the final riff is slightly too forward, drowned in Fátima's secret cooking pot, stunting the sound prism.
A worthy successor to its brother Fossil, Eerie leads the listener into a smaller channel, into a kind of funnel at the heart of the strange - is this Fátima's very intention? Mosul Orb is certainly the correlation of unusual phenomena, experienced during the recording sessions, the most haunting track on this record, or should I say alboom to respect Fátima's musical essence, the kind of track that becomes stinging, without ever being unpleasant, does it itch?
And so the album really begins with the last 3 tracks. Three Eyed Enoch opens the celestial way, or should I say the cryptic cavity of disfigured gods. Fátima is never pompous or bloated. Each composition has this particularity, neither progressive nor exaggerated. JC's atypical rhythmic drumming is particularly noteworthy.
As the abyss draws closer and time sharpens its iron on the bones of fossils, blades of grass pierce the ground like thousands of swords, pierced on all sides by radioactive rays and bites, Fátima concludes with Blue Aliens Wear Wigs, red-hot and incandescent. The mournful cry of agony will always precede the cutting edge of the day. Fátima propels itself into the fire of the comets, and at last deserves to be admitted among the most accomplished monolithic formations. As an echo repeats all the sounds that strike it, as the sea reflects the heavens and the abysses, Fátima dispels the mists of the past.
