Therion: Symphony Masses / Ho Drakon Ho Megas (1993) [1995, Toy's Factory TFCK-88770, Japan]

Hailing Symphony Masses – Ho Drakon Ho Megas as the first genuine Therion release may appear at first glance strange. After all the two preceding straightforward death metal efforts aren’t less legitimate. It isn’t either the big watershed Theli will be. The lineup is completely different than on Beyond Sanctorum, however Therion lineup has always been anecdotal and no musician here will last long anyway, even while remaining conscious Piotr Wawrzeniuck has been an important figure in Therion’s own little world. Therions’s little world indeed – that may be the key word here. With lyrics for the first time exclusively dealing with the Occult, with extensive research for alien (especially mid-Eastern) sonorities, this album has to be the point where said little world is taking shape.

Ignoring the fact Christofer Johnsson is one of the highest-ranking members of Dragon Rouge (Red Dragon), a Swedish occult order deriving its name from (if I’m not mistaken) an old alchemy book, an order of which the grandmaster is no other than Thomas Karlsson who was soon to become Therion’s main lyricist, would prove a big mistake. Why? HDHM may still be classified as experimental/melodic death metal, but it’s a rather restrictive tag; some parts aren’t even metal to begin with. It is, above all, an ode to the Red Dragon. Look, the beast itself fills most of the cover artwork (the original, not the re-release), and even if half of the lyrics will forever remain a total mystery what you may grasp of them can’t suffer any contestation – On the back of the red great dragon / I am daemon Tabaan, or later The eyes of (…?) / The eyes of the Red Dragon – without forgetting titles like Symphoni Draconis Inferni or Ho Drakon Ho Megas which could hardly be more explicit.

Along with Him the Dragon has already brought all this strange bestiary which was soon to become mandatory in every further Therion release – Baal, Naamah, Theli, Qliphoth, be sure you’ll hear of them at one moment or another. The band’s personal niche is now fully set, the invocations can begin. At that time, and in spite of the timid experiments from the previous album, opera singers were still out of question. Christofer Johnsson is the one credited for all vocals here, still this doesn’t prevent this opus from featuring a good deal of intensively dark, low-pitched, incantatory clean chanting. Even setting apart the hypnotizing title track, Dark Princess Naamah or the gloomy Symphoni Draconis Inferni would work as textbook examples. Besides, talking about this interesting vocal work one couldn’t avoid mentioning the insufferable distortion on A Black Rose without which, like it or not, this mad metal dance wouldn’t be the same. If Johnsson has never been a stellar singer with his fairly standard bestial death growls, at least no one would deny he’s a pretty imaginative man!

Of course if the vocals perfectly complement the lyrics, the music in turn had to perfectly complement the vocals; meaning, be altogether bestial, oddly melodious and occult. This sounds like a weird combination, and HDHM is indeed nothing but a weird combination, but a weird combination which manages to remain fully homogeneous and fascinating. Even what’s probably the most messy track here, Dark Princess Naamah which mixes its majestic opening with an utterly brutal blast-beating middle part debouching without warning on the incantation, doesn’t strike as particularly incoherent. Neither does the intrusion of the mid-Eastern flavours of The Ritualdance of the Yezidis, nor the monolithic title track, hardly metal save for the opening doom riff, founded on an obsessive, resounding programmed drum, a synthetic trumpet as well as the sick, exalted voice of the officiant apparently on the verge of sacrificing himself (personal interpretation, but there can hardly be another explanation)… provided you’ve accepted the initial postulate this is more than an experimental death metal album, this is a ceremony glorifying the Red Dragon.

The production hasn’t been neglected, beautifully raw if it makes any sense. All the instruments are clearly heard, including the bass which plays a non-negligible part in the overall ambiance, but everything shows a raspy varnish which couldn’t be more fitting. Chanting keyboards were mandatory to provide this work with the majesty its sacred purpose required, far echo of the orchestrations the band will later be famous for, but they’re only punctually used in their proper time and place. Because there was no way they’d occult the fact this album features amongst the best riffs Therion ever came with, and it’s saying much. They are numerous, and only very few of them are kind of predictable – perhaps Procreation of Eternity, in spite of a nice old-school vibe, is a tad too mechanical. But when a release can together boast the riff orgy of Dawn of Perishness, longest song as well as monstrous pinnacle complete with cheering crowd samples, the monumental doom verse of Baal Reginon, the raging death metal assault of Eye of the Eclipse or the wonderful Powerdance as short as it’s rich, nitpicking about a few weaker moments becomes futile. Otherwise the solos are all pretty solid, and behind the drumkit Piotr W. sounds as inspired as usual but as said before, the true interest has to be found elsewhere.

Perhaps this review should be dedicated to all those people who bitched about Gothic Kabbalah being not symphonic, not operatic enough. Therion doesn’t need an orchestra or opera singers to sound like Therion. Symphony Masses doesn’t need this to sound, well, symphonic in its own twisted way. Understand this, you don’t even have to be deep into death metal to enjoy this little (38 minutes!) gem. This isn’t death metal. This isn’t opera metal. This is Therion, enough said.

Highlights: Baal Reginon, A Black Rose, Dawn of Perishness, Powerdance

by Sean16, metal-archives.com