Doomy synths mete out feat chords while samples float in and out pronouncing wars and impending Armageddon on before double-pedaled bass drum and skyward guitars swoop in and blaze the way to a cinematic apocalypse painted in a thousand symphonic shades.
They’re all about the epic are these guys: aside from the introduction, of the nine tracks here, five are in the six to six-and-a-half minute region, while the remaining four are between seven and eight and a half minutes. And yet they still refer to it as an ‘EP/Album’!
With solos that twirl on for longer than the final of the Snooker World Championships, metal doesn’t get much proggier than this. Sure, it’s pretentious as hell. But then, it wouldn’t work if it wasn’t, and to knock it for being overblown guff would be like complaining about the calorific content of a Mars Bar. Credit to them at least for having the bottle to embrace so completely the preposterousness of what they’re doing and make a decent fist of it. Awful name, though.
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Tempus Fusion Online
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