Eonian - Dimmu Borgir

The emperor's new clothes

There are no fixed forms of how Dimmu Borgir should, can and should sound, but I do still like to give my opinion on how they should sound. They should not sound as if the slow needs to be put in position as Norway's contributions to Eurovision, nor as an urgent cheerleader for Satan himself, for both postulates are unfortunately just as mandatory, as had Euclid formulated them. I am not saying it is a bad plate, it is just not a so good plate, as one might hope/expect of such a prominent and experienced band. I suspect the choir, to act as a distraction from the fact that Dimmu Borgir is far along the way not only sounds like a bad copy of them yourself or, heaven forbid, no longer have anything to offer. The individual bright spots in the form of a delicious riff here or an interesting melody, that does not outweigh how much I can't find very many nice things to say. Well, for one thing. Should I be completely honest, it sounds Eonian, as if they are trying to revive the cheeky, Spiritual Black Dimensions, but with a choir instead of clean vocals. Unfortunately, lacking the charm of their previous releases, and this one appears polished, popped and neat. I need not determine whether the Dimmu has lost the nipple, but to me they have lost.

It's not me, it's you

Dimmu Borgir is, commercially speaking, one of the greatest black metal bands, Norway has on his conscience. In Sorte Diaboli went in as number 43 on the u.s. Billboard 200, and thus they were the first Norwegian band since A-ha, which can boast of to get on the list. Whether it is good or bad, may be said to be a matter of perspective, of Dimmu Borgirs symphonic black metal is still frowned upon among the more conservative fans of the genre, while their fans are dedicated and diverse. Although I must be counted among them – they were among the first bands that introduced me to black metal, I must with Eonian observe that they and I can no longer understand each other as well as we did once.

A mixed bag

Last year I got myself a good talk with Shagrath about this and that and, of course, also the album I, and probably others, have been waiting for in the eight-fucking-years. As a starting point, I was not overly fond of Abrahadabra, but it should not be them to the last, that I fell not on the tail – as a fan it is important to maintain the ability to relate critically to the band you love. I was in the aforementioned interview made aware of both the red thread on the album: the chorus, and the fact it is a proposal with many details that require both contemplation and more gennemlytninger before it gets under your skin on one. And it must be so, give him the right; after several weeks with various levels of intense listening and the matching of expectations and the inevitable comparison with the previous albums – I'm still no wiser on the Eonian.

Initially I was captivated by the addition of the electronic instruments in the bombastic opening "The Unveiling", but quickly it dawned on me that the old saying that "empty barrels rumble the most", in the highest degree can apply on the Eonian, and several times in the course of the album, I have taken myself in to compare with other bands in the same category. The aforementioned reminds me a bit of Cradle of Filth, "Interdimensional Summit" has a little Satyricon, "Council of Wolves and Snakes" reminds eerily much about the Ghost, both the "ÆTheric" and "I Am Sovereign" gave me the desire to hear Vovin by Therion, and the "Archaic Correspondence" plinger it all merrily away with a nod in the direction of the defunct Windir. Shagrath said in the summer that they have seen back to "the good old days in 94", and optimally should this, their tenth album will be a homage to their roots. But it all sounds hollow and not of the charming busy-on-a-potato-shape. Which is lacking in the degree of both weight and substance, and the infamous 30-men's choir, I was promised in the interview, sounds strikingly like a rollicking advertisement for a pat-cake-a christian summer camp – and, unfortunately, not the kind of contrast, which could otherwise have given the plate a little character and edge.


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