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Through My Dog's Eyes ($5 Blowout Price!)
"Ephel Duath are a notable group, in that every one of their full-lengths has had its own distinct sound and style. There is a core Ephel Duath sound, primarily a product of guitar player and mastermind Davide Tiso’s style; however, each release has taken a strong influence from another musical source also. The initial forays of the band’s only metal release(s), Phormula/Rephormula, borrowed many of the aesthetics and techniques of black metal, although the spirit of the songs, and the use of a contrasting, almost carnivalesque melodic influence ensured that this was never more than a superficial aspect. The same base sound was combined with jazz in the highly-acclaimed follow-up, The Painter’s Palette. A more cautious and yet simultaneously more extreme stylistic leap was taken to produce Pain Necessary to Know, which showcased yet another aspect of the band’s sound, taking an almost free-jazz approach to song-writing, despite the fact that this release doesn’t actually have much of a jazz sound for the most part. In some ways that was the most pure iteration of Ephel Duath’s basic sound, despite some quite experimental use of electronics and a severely uncompromising approach to freeform structuring.
Their 2009 release, Through My Dog’s Eyes, represents yet another new and remarkable direction for Ephel Duath, performing as a three-piece on this release. The dominant influence this time around is blues-rock—perhaps not the first component that would be suggested for hybridisation with the sharp, angular, aggressively unpredictable sound of the previous releases, and yet it has worked startlingly well. This is largely due to a drift away from the strong instrumental technicality and erratic micro- and macro-structuring of the previous releases, and a general softening of the harsher riffs’ edges. The influence is not applied evenly across the entire album, and is very strong in some tracks, but is only used sparingly and fitfully in others. Overall, however, it has had a fairly extreme effect on the sonic impact and cumulative flavour of the release. Indeed, given this change (in addition to the new vocal style—discussed presently), when I first listened to the album, I thought that I had been sold an incorrectly-pressed disc; it was not until I noticed some instances of Tiso’s very distinctive glissando-laden style that I was fully convinced otherwise.
An immediately-noticeable aspect of the release is the atmosphere which dominates throughout. Although there is a fairly wide range of dynamics and themes, the prevailing mood is a dreamy, smoky-sounding groove, which drifts from phrase to phrase serenely. A gentle but persistent pulse is provided by the double-tracked guitars, which do still display most of the techniques that make Ephel Duath distinctive: the frequent pauses and subsequent precise rhythmic or melodic shifts; the very mellifluous, almost slinky-sounding melodies, filled with slides; and the use of strange, awkward, almost broken-sounding time signatures and rhythmic ideas. However, as previously stated, all of these elements have been toned down quite a bit—the music is much easier to follow than on the previous release. It’s not a ‘dumbed-down’ take on these Italians’ usual style, however; the music is still highly intricate, and takes many, many listens before it fully reveals its more subtle elements. Furthermore, the instrumental parts are all still extremely complex, in a technical sense. The presentation is simply more comprehensible (and aided by a nice, clear production), which is not necessarily a bad thing. I don’t find this release quite as enjoyable as the far more opaque Pain Necessary to Know, but there’s a fair chance that many listeners will disagree with me on this.
Sadly, this less involved approach to rhythmic and melodic composition has been accompanied by a change-down in gear by the rhythm section. The bass guitar on this release appears to have been performed by Tiso himself, and it’s inferior to the performances by dedicated bassist Fabio Fecchio on the previous two full-lengths (discounting the remix album, Pain Remixes the Known, of course). Although it’s still performed very well, it doesn’t have the same spark and individual identity displayed previously. To say that it simply follows the guitars would be inaccurate, but it does seem leery of truly venturing into territory of its own, and the slightly funky solo sections and underlying textures are very much a thing of the past. The drumming is also less intriguing, being performed by new member Marco Minnemann, whose credentials lie primarily in the technical death metal arena. Indeed, there’s no issue with his ability, and the drumming is extremely solid—but it still lacks the flair of the jazz-inspired releases, where Davide Piovesan’s very intricate, complex, and yet almost laid-back sounding style was allowed to shine. Although Tiso’s guitar work has always been the heart of Ephel Duath, the less exciting rhythm section contribution is still somewhat disappointing.
As a final comparison with previous releases, the decreased use of contributions, particularly programming, supporting the primary instruments is quite notable. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, although I do sometimes miss the intense electronic and synthesised sounds interwoven into the tapestries of Pain Necessary to Know, and Phormula/Rephormula. This album has a more natural sound, comparable to that of The Painter’s Palette, which only used synthetic sounds dominantly on a couple of tracks. Some notable programming is also present in only two tracks on this release—some fairly understated synth and programming found in and under most of the slightly disappointing Nina, which fail to rescue this mediocre track, and some almost jungle-sounding snare effects in a couple of sections of instrumental closer Bark Loud. These have a really strong, positive impact on that loud, proud, extroverted piece’s structure. The other notable guest slot is the saxophone provided by guest musician Stefano Ferrian for the track Breed. Not unlike the distinctive trumpet work on The Passage from The Painter’s Palette, this is more about texture and atonality than pure melody, although it does not have nearly so dramatic an impact as the trumpet had.
Ceasing the comparisons to previous work, and focussing now on Through My Dog’s eyes for itself, the structuring of the songs deserves special mention. Most of the tracks are relatively short and fairly concise, and yet many of them go through strong changes in dynamic and mood. Each song has its own distinct personality, ranging from the very introverted and shy-sounding Spider-Shaped Leaves to the loud, proud, outgoing Bark Loud, which greatly aids the character of the release, also. The structures are interesting for the most part, and balance gentle, dreamy bluesy sections with the harsher, riff-dominated portions in a fairly interesting manner. However, these louder sections are one complaint I have about the album—they’re simply not nearly as good as the more restrained, often quite beautiful bluesy or simply laid-back portions, and indeed sound quite crude in comparison. They seem more like a tacked-on throwback to the band’s roots more than anything, and frankly I’d have preferred that they be left out or at least trimmed significantly. The really shining moments are usually the slightly protracted bittersweet instrumental sections, where the guitar playing is allowed to really breathe and excel. The heavier, more riff-based portions just sound clumsy following such brilliance. They sound especially out of place on what is ultimately not a particularly heavy album, although it must be said that it does pack quite a bite nonetheless.
The overall album structure has clearly been considered also, and while it’s not a hugely impressive example of a perfectly cohesive, well-planned album, it still manages to encompass a decent sense of build and development. In keeping with the relatively short and concise nature of the individual tracks, the album itself clocks in at a reasonably brief thirty-two minutes. I’d honestly have liked to have seen a little more meat included in the release, however.
A lot of the music is actually quite catchy, a trait which is but rarely exhibited by Ephel Duath. The glowing guitar leads are the primary source of this catchiness, supported by some of the more memorable vocal hooks. Many portions of the music are also not so much catchy as they are enthralling; the delicate melodies and throbbing, pulsing character of the music leads to a sort of nod-along, foot-tapping involvement with the music. Unfortunately, some parts, particularly vocal parts, are repeated quite a bit, which makes it feel like they are being drilled into the listener’s head. This can be annoying, especially on songs like Nina and to a lesser extent Breed. It does work very well on Bark Loud, however, where the instrumental repetition serves to enforce the soaring lead guitar phrase as a key melodic expression. The result is an extremely exciting piece of music. Thus this repetitive quality provides both one of the album’s most gripping, exciting aspects and also one of its most irritating. It’s quite the dichotomy, and is really rather unfortunate.
One hugely distinctive aspect of this release is the vocal approach. In keeping with the canine gimmick of the release, they are delivered in a kind of gruff bark, usually fairly low-pitched. It’s somewhat unusual, despite straying into more familiar hardcore-styled territory occasionally, but fits extremely well. Having heard it performed as such I really wouldn’t have it any other way. Incidentally, this is a more versatile, varied approach than my description makes it sounds like, and is supported by a limited amount of spoken word. I haven’t been able to find printed lyrics for this release, but they’re actually fairly audible. As the reader is no doubt aware, this album presents everything from the point of view of various dogs. This has actually worked surprisingly well—despite the occasional bouts of silliness and odd-sounding ideas, most of the songs manage to deal quite meaningfully with abstract themes such as death, love, loneliness, and the nature of freedom. I was actually very impressed by how mature this release is on that front, for the most part. On the other hand, it is not without its silly moments. Lyrics like “I’m wagging my tail so hard, my whole body seems to be dancing” conjure up mental images of excitable puppies and, while quite cute, detract from the more weighty lyrical themes. Overall, however, the product could best be described as a fairly light-hearted treatment of fairly serious themes, which works quite well for the most part.
Through My Dog’s Eyes is a real breath of fresh air, being one of the most interesting and unique releases that I’ve heard from 2009’s crop to date, as well as representing an exciting new direction for Ephel Duath. It has received a lot of negative press for the less intricate style, but this is only a superficial change, and careful listening reveals a great depth and wealth of complexity to the music. Additionally, while many mourn the loss of jazz influences, I would suggest that those listeners give the album another careful perusal, since the new-found blues-rock influence has given it a fresh and unique character and vitality that complements the underlying style every bit as well as the jazz stylings ever did. Another major point of contention is the lyrical gimmick, which many see as silly or needlessly gimmicky. However it’s actually far more worthwhile than would be expected. I myself approached this release with a great degree of trepidation and scepticism, both of which turned out to be misplaced. It’s worth noting that the DVD ‘C’era una volta…’ which accompanies many copies of this release contains a track-by-track explanation, presented by Tiso, of what the songs are about, and sheds some light on the underlying meanings (without spoon-feeding the listener, mark you). Through My Dog’s Eyes is a very worthwhile addition to Ephel Duath’s discography, and a relatively accessible showcasing of what the band can do. It’s surprising; it’s unique; it’s unabashed; and it’s excellent." - The Metal Archives