(Andy Synn is ready to join the fight for freedom alongside French firebrands Griffon… are you?)
Aux armes! Aux armes! To the barricades my friends, to raise our flags and spit death in the eye once more!
You see, I’ve been on a bit of a Black Metal binge recently – just this weekend I attended a fantastic event in Manchester where I got to see the likes of Andracca, The Sun’s Journey Through The Night, Abduction, Devastator, The Infernal Sea, and Ninkharsag all performing their latest releases in full – and discovering the new album from Griffon early last week has only further helped reignite my passion for the genre.
And so, like any good son of the revolution, I felt it was my duty to spread the word and enlist more names to swell our ranks and bolster our forces!
All playful hyperbole aside, it’s a sincere pleasure to feel this excited about an album and to know that I can be as honest (not that I’m not always) and as earnest as I like when sharing my unabashed enthusiasm for it.
Clocking in at just under thirty seven minutes in total, De Republica practically bursts from the speakers in a riot of strafing blastbeats, seething tremolo melodies and martial, stomping riffs, interspersed with a plethora of prominent (but not overbearing) symphonic splashes and ostentatious neoclassical embellishments, and topped off with a visceral variety of snarls, shrieks, and screams (as well as a handful of vividly evocative voice-overs).
And while none of that necessarily breaks the mould when it comes to Black Metal – valid comparisons can certainly be drawn to the likes of Wesenwille, Grima, and even Kanonenfieber when it comes to the band’s powerful delivery – what really helps set Griffon apart as a band worthy of notice, to me at least, is the wealth of character and charisma with which they imbue every single track.
Not only that, but the raw emotion behind these six tumultuous tales of struggle and revolution – from the opening paean to assassinated antimilitarist icon Jean Jaurès (“L’homme du Tarn”), with its inspiring blend of heroic hooks and melancholy melody, to the climactic title-track, which is as ferocious as it is forthright in its castigation of a government willing to betray the ideals and principles upon which the republic was founded – simply cannot be denied, and there’s no question that Griffon have poured every single ounce of their passion into the creation of this record.
And then there’s the final, potent piece of the band’s tripartite formula for success, which is the sheer amount of care and craftsmanship which the group have clearly lavished on each song, with the resultant ebb and flow between blistering intensity and brooding calm, the juxtaposition of gloomy grandeur and righteous anger, and the sparing but perfectly-placed use of wounded, world-weary clean vocals at key points in the narrative, all adding up to an album which is most certainly far greater than the mere sum of its parts.
Even though it’s only February I fully expect De Republica to be in strong contention for my top ten list in December, as not only has it rekindled my love of Black Metal all over again, it also possesses a revolutionary zeal, and an inspiring spirit, which seems to speak to me more and more with each passing day. And, hopefully, it will speak to you too.
Vive la république!