There is a musical genre called doom metal that, in its most extreme forms, is able to offer works that are true exhibitions of suffering translated into music; there are records that, in turn, you are almost afraid to listen to again, because after the first passages it is clear the perception that they can not be reduced to the simple role of musical works, but will leave an indelible mark in those who will be lucky enough to listen to them. Dear Insanity provokes a whirlwind of sensations from which it is impossible not to come out completely drained from a psychic point of view; when Eye Of Solitude released Canto III in 2013 it was clear that a level had been reached by the London-based band (but, in fact, an international of pain, as I defined them at the time) that made it quite difficult even to approach it. But the proof of the formidable talent of this group of musicians arrived punctually with this ep, also released by the French label Kaotoxin Records, consisting of a single 50-minute track. Having reached the maximum possible in the field of melodic death doom, the magnificent band led by Daniel Neagoe has lost, after Canto III, keyboardist Pedro Caballero and guitarist Indee Rehal-Sagoo and it is possible that this may have contributed to close and fold further on itself the sound, making it flow into a funeral with traits often desperate but characterized both by ambient parts far from reassuring and, above all, by a long final part (Undone) imbued with a poignant melancholy; Perhaps it’s no coincidence that the writing of this fragment of the work was attended by Déhà, another great musician of the Kaotoxin family, which has certainly brought in dowry that melodic sense that we could admire in the beautiful Thoughtscanning of his We All Die (Laughing). All in all, Dear Insanity is an auditory experience that will shake the most sensitive souls: Eye Of Solitude take us for more than half an hour into their lightless world, annihilating us with Daniel’s oppressive gurgling (to which, at around minute 16, comes a brief change from the equally catacomb-like voice of Evander Sinque of Who Dies In Siberian Slush), a voice that translates into a gasp, a symptom of an excruciating suffering that nothing will ever be able to soothe; the bradycardic rhythms led by Adriano Ferraro and Chris Davies, on which the guitar of Mark Antoniades weaves melodies of a heartbreaking sadness, seem to have to accompany us forcefully in Hades in their inevitability until, almost unexpected, a new turn of the piano begins to dig deep into the soul, exhausting the remaining stocks of our tear ducts to tell us that, if there was still a faint hope, it is now too late to be able to imprint the dim glow on our retinas one last time. When the final notes of Dear Insanity end, with the weeping giving way to an alienating sensation halfway between peace and astonishment, only two certainties remain: the first is that if doom didn’t exist, there would be no way to represent pain in such a sublime form; the second is that Eye Of Solitude are, today, those who best manage to do it on the planet, continuing with slow but sure step in their path paved with suffering that is far from being close to its final destination.

2014 – Kaotoxin Records