Livin’Evil 2023
Rising from tragedy, French ensemble embrace eternity to burn like Phoenix with a stellar retinue in tow.
Theirs was a rather brief existence, this band’s original lifespan starting in 1992 and ending six years later with a meager recorded legacy of two demos, and the chances for them to reform got shot down in flames in 2018, when one of the Pairon brothers who founded the group, passed away, aged 45. Still, four years down the line, the collective’s former bassist Jérôme Viel decided to mark the thirtieth anniversary of their beginning with the best homage to his fallen friend there could be and returned with a fresh line-up – and the team’s first-ever full-length offering. Based on those decades-old demos as well as rehearsal and live documents and for the most part given new lyrics, it features a few famous guitarists interpreting the late Patrick’s solos and embellishing what amounts to a hell of an album.
The nether world is present in many of the platter’s pieces – all aligned to the no-frills heavy metal where stygian riffs carry a memorable melody delivered by Tasos Lazaris’ mighty vocals and the six-string hooks courtesy of Kiato Luu and J.A. Jacq which the likes of Timo Tolkki and Roland Grapow may only spice up, so while, at 73 minutes, there’s a lot going on, the emotional preciousness of it all cannot be shortened. From “Another Preacher Of Satan” onwards, the ensemble battle the forces of evil with a valiant onslaught which wouldn’t let up when an exquisite strum and Viel’s bottom-end rumble provide textural relief amidst the furious sonics that are abound here. Factor in singalong-prompting wordless refrains, and the classic gallop of “Behind The Light” should make the listener want to join the fight, even though “Through The Night” gets too epic and baroque before “A Song For A Dead Man” reveals the band’s balladry-softened underbelly and the acoustically tinctured “Step Into A Blaze Of Fire” shows the entire scope of their cosmic stomp, whereas the histrionic “Fire” borders on hysterical.
But then, “Dreadful Fate” displays a much deeper interplay and voice performance and “Lyrical Agony” turns a dirge into a paean to pain, preparing the ground for “Epitaph For A Singular Friend” and its appetite-whetting stampede, an impetus leading this ensemble to the stage. It would be a pity if “Prayers And Torments” is a one-off event.
****1/3