Into the Labyrinth [Re-Mastered]

*Into the Labyrinth* is what synthesizer technology was made for. The "upgrading" of human spirituality and expression, the surgical transposition of tonal multiplicity, the democratic rendering of "world-beat" multiculturalism beyond all notions of ethnocentric culture-mongering.

Granted, I normally avoid music that requires racks of digital equipment to get itself off the ground. I'd prefer to hear the squish of sweaty calluses sliding across nickelwound strings, feedback woofing through analog speaker cabinets, a real live acoustic drum set and bass guitarist sweating bullets on a 30-minute prog-rock epic. But the power-duo of Dead Can Dance, along with their arsenal of machines and recording-technology, have ensouled their music in waves of digital sorcery as moving and "organic" as the most bare-bones unplugged meat-and-potatoes blues number. Even the pastoral a cappela "Wind that Shakes the Barley" is rendered with so much digital reverb my speakers buzz and vibrate whenever I spin that track. If nothing else, Brendan Perry's machine-savvy production values stand as an inspiring artistic rebuttal to the lurid vulgarizations of "techno" music with its chooming BASS BASS BASS thundering out of car stereos these days.

Of course, certain ethnocentric "purists" will dismiss much of this album as so much poseur kitsch, a crude Anglo-colonialist attempt to coopt the passion and culture of ancient peoples (whether African, Gaelic, Spanish or Asian) in a self-indulgent postmodern stew of Westernized machination, but hey, it's their loss. Recorded at Quivvy Church (some no-doubt hoary monastic backwater), Brendan Perry and Lisa Gerrard enswathe their listeners with stirring folkways (cleansed of all patina) simmering coolly on the dizzy lip of mania, an aural feed of processed knowledge, a sonic prelude to violent cosmic upheaval and the creation of the moon. This is what multiculturalist music can and should be, NOT an ethnocentric fetishization of one's fraternal gene-pool (or "roots"), but rather the polyphonic cross-fertilization of textures and styles, histories and apparitions, a fossil river traversing the entire span of tonality and desire. Human music, in a word.

Brendan Perry comes on rather like an art-school Frank Sinatra in "The Carnival is Over", his lung-heaving vibrato cascading in the speakers, while "The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove" and "How Fortunate the Man with None" are positively chilling with their baritone legato slides and soulful moans of strangled fatalistic desire. Stunning.

Lisa Gerrard (not that she needs my approval) is the greatest of female vocalists. Her silk-throated mastery of diverse styles is godly pure, an Ariadne to be tracked and loved as Nietzsche himself taught us to love. Her voice betokens something good. A nymphic mystery and love whirring out from the groves of Faerie and the grassy swales of African prairieland, negro energies cool in the gloaming. (The only vocal styles she has yet to master are those of swing-jazz and grindcore death-metal.) The gentle love-dream of Lisa Gerrard will haunt me for the rest of my days, like the existence of an oxy-acetylene flame that can burn underwater. How perfectly horrid.

The only weakness of this recording is the lyric sheet, enfeebled with trite passages and lazy cliches that simper and crumble under the strength of the music. Forgive me, Mr. Perry, but perhaps in the future you could discover and commission a strong poet to deliver words which are equal to the Dead Can Dance sonic repertoire. Until then we'll have to settle for "And your conscience walks beside you / It's the best friend you will ever know / And the past is now your future / It bears witness to your soul" and the like. Of course, the music is what matters in the end, and roughly half the tracks on *Into the Labyrinth* have no lyrics to begin with (at least, not in English), most notably "Yulunga," "Ariadne," and "The Spider's Strategem." Suffice it to say, these are some of the most rewarding bits on the album. And the haunting final track is deftly canvassed from a Brecht poem.

But whatever your race, creed, faith, or faction, *Into the Labyrinth* will surely enrich and sleeken your life, ultramodern mirrors of speculation committed to a synth-rich *othering* of the world, echoing the dusky presence-chamber of the Minotaur and his mad song of violent, thread-snapping carnality.


An altogether excellent release.   December 1, 2002
 6 out of 6 found this review helpful

It is interesting that opinions on this release are so polarised between either highly congratulatory or greatly disappointed. As with any music that exhibits such an individual character, the ingrained likes and dislikes of the individual listener are a larger deciding factor than usual. Many 'rock attuned' listeners prefer the more 'singular' focus of Aion or The Serpents Egg, The Goth/Dark wave set (predicably) err in favour of Dying Sun etc.

This is a very eclectic album, when measured against the earlier records. 'Ambitious' is a label that comes to mind, and this can be a dangerous road for a musical artist to tread. On one hand is the possibility of a groundbreaking achievement, on the other extreme, a self-indulgent, flatulent output bogged down in clich' despite it's lofty aspirations. (And the middle, the 'interesting failure'- a rather flat-footed achievement.)

My opinion, I consider this to be an EXCELLENT album, although this CD took a long time to really grow on me, as it has doubtless done for many others. Ironic that another reviewer voiced a dislike of the 'pop structure' of some of the songs, because this music does not function in the same manner as pop song writing despite that influence. This stuff really needs to be listened to a lot more than once or twice and digested slowly. Like all 'serious' art (an interpretive category, admittedly) the listener only walks away with what they make the effort to invest in the experience. Anyway, lets say SOMETHING about the music.....

'Yulunga' - A longish work that creates a somewhat lysergic quality, a slow moving but forceful mood-setter for the album.

'Ubiquitous Mr Lovegrove' - 'love song' in a way, though not in the conventional sense. The signature wind melody recalls something of 'Aeon'. Brendan is limited in range as a singer and it is noticeable that his musical arrangements work around this by punctuating his vocal phrasing with dashes of string, flute, percussion and providing well-timed build-ups at key points in his lyrics

'Where Soft winds shook the Barley' (traditional)- a cappella piece by Lisa. Rather charming, although easily skipped when one is not in the mood. For attentive listening though, the shaping of the vocal phrases is nicely put together.

'The Carnival is over'- A highpoint for me, I love it. The slow delicate arpeggio at the beginning with the build-up of multiple parts is very nicely done, a signature Brendan piece. The same remarks for 'LoveGrove' apply. The lyrics in combination with the music are highly visual and appear rather personal, as though we are being offered a glimpse of a particularly poignant memory.

'Ariadne' - 'flows' out of 'Carnival', almost as though they were two separate aspects of the same work. The closing chord of Lovegrove becomes the opening chord of Ariadne and it builds beautifully from there. Lisa's voice works well here too.

'Saldek' - A short, simple work with the Arabic and Sepharidic influences coming to the fore. Literally a single chord over and over with Lisa singing on top. Almost for sure a Lisa work. (Interesting how Lisa and Brendan's strengths/weaknesses, are sort of reverse images of each other, Brendan a good composer/arranger if limited singer, and Lisa the great singer/voice sculptor, but minimalist in her writing and musical arrangements)

'Toward the within' - simple ingredients overall but the arrangements are highly ingenious and very well thought out.

Tell me about the forest - more highly interpretive lyrics and, yet again, well fleshed out arrangements like the way the music functions as a whole yet allows the listener to focus on specific elements without loosing the thread of the work.

The spider's stratagem - similar to Towards the Within to a degree.

Emmelia - Another strategically placed 'break piece' like Saldek or 'Barley'.

How fortunate the man with none -. Builds nicely and lets you down nice and gently at the end. A perfect closer to one of my favourite discs.