Opera IX - Strix - Maledictae in Aeternum

Posted on Tuesday, February 21, 2012

There was a time when I was a naive, wide-eyed, horny youngster. Days felt like weeks, the world was my playground, and the grass was greener (and got me higher). Those were the days I wanted to hear and write about every Metal band there was, and the labels knew how to take care of you back then. They not only sent you a real copy of the shit, but you got posters, bios, photos, stickers, etc. Which leads me to the only pleasant memory I have of Italy’s Opera IX, a poster of the lovely lead vocalist Cadaveria. A dark, Italian, sinister sex goddess - one of my many weaknesses. I still have that poster up by my bed. The CD I sold for crack aeons ago. Now times have changed. I’ll soon be staring down the backside of 30. Review copies are downloaded and you’re lucky to get a tracklist. All that arrives in the mail are bills. By now I’ve realized no beautiful Italian women want anything to do with me, and that I’ll never have Cadaveria’s ankles up by her ears. She’s not even in the band anymore. Nowadays it’s always just some dude. I don’t even remember what Opera IX sounded like back in the day, but Strix is a completely bland, emotionless record. Black Metal-tinged melodic Thrash with cheap synths and boring vocals. There isn’t a split second of this album that is memorable, powerful, or commanding of attention. This is a band playing instruments purely for therapeutic purposes, writing lifeless songs and chanting intros for their own amusement. No idea how anyone could derive enjoyment from this completely barren musical landscape. Embarrassingly non-threatening, unable to tap into even the most banal human emotion, and now not even any sex to sell. I’d like to provide an example as to why it’s such a dismal failure, but the level of dullness is so overwhelming, when I listen it’s hard to focus for more than 30 seconds. Try eating plain bread for every meal for a week (with water for did-doodly-dippin’). The high water mark of this band’s career is still that 12-year old, semen-encrusted poster.

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