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Recycle your Ears, October 2000 |
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One of the latest signings on Cold Meat Industry is a one man project called Coph Nia, active in an hybrid field between dark ambient and more neo classical stuff. This first CD, "That which remains" has both good and disappointing aspects. Music-wise, we get here mostly dark ambient soundscapes reminiscent of Lustmord and Yen Pox. Compared to these two bands, the music is not as multi-layered, but evolves faster, and with less repetitions. The tones are deep and the percussions are mostly in the background. Some distant samples add a lush aspect to the whole. The result is a nice piece of isolationist ambient, for example with the very good "Doppelgänger". What bugs me though is the use of voices on about half of the songs. On "Opus 77" or "Sanctus", for example, a male voice tries to bring solemn ritualistic lyrics to the tracks, but fails, the tone of the vocals being either too serious or not dark enough. I would more or less compare this to what Puissance have done, except that, in a way, this voice doesn't fit the music (it sounds a bit like a metal fan trying to use a normal voice but keeping the metal monolithic spirit). This turns out to be annoying since the music behind the texts is really good. On "Our lady of the stars", a woman sings and transforms the songs into a synthetic neo classical piece that reminds of early Love is Colder than Death, with more or less the same result. Really nice and dark, "That which remains" should be directed first to metal fans discovering dark ambient. This might also appeal to the fans of evil-minded european dark industrial. The instrumental tracks are great and, ithout the vocals, this would have turned into a great CD that would definitely be part of the top CMI releases of the year. Nicolas, October 27, 2000 |
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Flux Europa, November 2000 |
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Cold Meat Industry "...there is no god but man." This dark soundtrack with spoken word featuring a Crowleyite ritual is exactly the sort of music one traditionally associates with Cold Meat and a worthy addition to their stable. Firmly rooted in the "introspective nord-ambient tradition", Coph Nia extolls belief in the power of the will as the path to illumination in a secular world about to collapse. Predominantly composed of cold and eerie soundscapes, the album is the perfect accompaniment to commuting on a dark winter's evening. And If the demons are left to play a little too long on 'Doppelgänger', solace arrives in the form of a splendid Latin prayer, 'Sanctus'. Whilst believing that God is dead and Man the measure of all things, Coph Nia retains a gloriously 'High Church' approach. Movement in yet another direction is provided by 'Our lady of the stars', a Dead-Can-Dance-ish anthem with female vocals about the great goddess. This album is a tour de force of gothic-ambient and highly recommended. RIK - 31 October 2000 |
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Outburn, November 2000 |
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COPH NIA Not satisfied to simply rehash formulaic 'dark sonicscape' music, Coph Nia pledge an allegiance to something more singularly fulfilling, incorporating a 'strength of will' attitude within their darkened sonic passages. While the scarred lung, remote landscape of the opening track, "The Scapegoat," implies empty space, cold, but not chilly, more the psychic materialization of a mirage called hopelessness, the following track, "Opus 77," verbalizes the Coph Nia decree. Steely, decisive male vocals proclaim, "The law of the strong" a nod to Crowley (whom, I believe, makes a vocal appearance toward the end of the title track?); it is a powerful statement of conviction because it is not preachy, and the music is not short-changed. Where "The Scapegoat" once knew of hope (even if only an illusion), the tension drone of "Holy War (Part 2)" relinquishes any pretext of hope, unraveling a sentient fog thick with desolation. The brooding atmosphere grows even heavier as the track progresses, synths assimilating the parched, throaty exhalations of the living dead. And then there is "Doppleganger," one of the most purely horrific audio experiences yet conceived. As the surging machinery and hollow synths are bludgeoned with explosions, an extremely creepy, sub-human voice espouses nerve-sheering utterances, a wicked voice in league with demons, scratched off the surface of Hell's limestone and blood-stained walls. All the while, the stark, wind from nowhere ambience is punctured by the god-forsaken screams of the victims to whatever heinous travesty is at hand. Eerie, magnificent work! --JC Smith |
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| Release Music Magazine, November 2000 | ||||
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Like all the classical Cold Meat Industry releases, "That Which Remains" evokes a primal, dark place of horrors, something similar to the torture realms accidentally opened by the unfortunate characters in the "Hellraiser" films. Coph Nia is not doing the medieval angst trip, choosing instead to focus on occultism in general and quoting long stretches of Aleister Crowley. The name Coph Nia in itself is a reference to a Crowleyan symbol of power, and obviously the Swede behind the imaginative name Aldenon Satorial is a disciple. Chanting in Latin and slow drones further establish Coph Nia as a kind of "best of"-band in the softer, less industrial Cold Meat-tradition. Like the works of Arcana and Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio, "That Which Remains" is a slow, lingering thing, demanding patience and attention unless you're just using it as a background piece for some role-playing session. Now and then, the sounds fade into practically nothingness and stay that way for quite some time. The dark worlds of these so-called nordambient bands get tedious with overconsumption, but in moderate doses, it can be evocative and just a little scary. On "Our Lady of the Stars", the mood suddenly turns triumphant with powerful female vocals chasing the night away. The diversity of "That Which Remains" is Coph Nia's strong point. In an often-predictable musical area, it contains some refreshingly unfamiliar elements thrown together. I could do without the "do what thou wilt" stuff, though. I suspect everyone who listens to this kind of music keeps Crowley's "The Book of the Law" under her pillow anyway. MATTIAS HUSS |
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