I admit that I easily refer to defunct Cold Meat Industry when talking about the glorious days of Industrial (that specific scene in a very wide and general sense), even though back then there were lots of other superb labels existing as well - nowadays it’s even getting better, again and again, yet still, the heritage... The ‘cult’ status remains, for ever. One of the reasons is the fact that some of the older Cold Meat Industry stuff gets re-released or compiled – I can refer to reviews I recently did for Raison d’Être (Old Europa Café), for example, and there are some more things going on, like Cyclic Law’ re-release of an older Desiderii Marginis recording (and to my opinion one of their best).
Another aspect within this vein is the re-release of Lupus In Fabula, the debut for this band on Cold Meat Industry, originally given to the audience in 1996. This gets done by Raubbau, a German label that released and releases material from several former Cold Meat Industry acts, such as Morthound, The Protagonist, Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio, Deutsch Nepal etc. (several re-releases included here as well). Raubbau’s roster also includes other new or renewed stuff by Sanctum, which undersigned is about to review as well in a very near future (besides some live material!). But let’s focus on Lupus In Fabula right now…
First this: this re-issue is a digital-only release, not a physically available thing (like several other releases for Sanctum, by the way!)...
I do remember being enormously surprised when I listened to that album for the very first time(s), even though it’s been two decades. Cold Meat Industry stood for Industrial – as said in different angles. In an era that brought us a wide range of things, going from the extremities of MZ.412 to the classical sounds created by Arcana (though ‘Industrial’ is not exactly the most accurate terminology right here either), from haunting and mysterious darkness à la Aghast to magic Dungeon Synth from Mortiis, from the Death Industrial power from Brighter Death Now to the apocalyptic Ero-Folk by Ordo Equilibrio (the ‘Rosarius’ interfix wasn’t used yet), and so on – there was such a difference, but still it was so striking to ‘meet’ Sanctum with the Lupus In Fabula album, for it was, at first sight, much more ‘mainstream’ and accessible for a wider audience. No, I will not add words like ‘commercial’, ‘popular’ or ‘low-profiled’, because – and I will come back to that immediately – the result is quite interesting. But compared to the bigger part of what we had back then, this album was sort of, well, refreshing, I’d like to call it. And then again, it was rough and harsh too, when going deeper into the essence…
First a brief summary of technical facts: recorded at the Crescens Studio and the Matchtown Studio with assistance of engineer / mixer Mats Siltberg, produced by the band, and with somewhat, eh, ‘different’ yet unique artwork (design, photography), directed by the band as well. ...now re-issued with new cover artwork...
Lupus In Fabula was (and of course, it still is) quite a diverse album, with a lot to experience. Since the original release consisted of at least fifteen tracks (the album clocks over an hour of length; but keep in mind that some of those separated titles are just very short ‘connective’ pieces, sort of sonic glue in between longer aural sections, cf. Little Scamp With Horns etc.), I am not going to give a description on all of them. But I will focus on some general lines, with a couple of more detailed descriptions.
The album opens with Dragonfly, a composition that shows the open-minded approach of this Swedish quartet. It starts rather integer and somewhat classical, with softer synth passages and the narrative voice of Lena. It’s like a cinematic translation of some tale, constructing some kind of soundtrack for a personal short movie, including a cabaretesque atmosphere. Several layers, including violins and many layers of keyboard-grandeur, permanently change, yet with a very clear and pointed red line. But there is much more: sudden intermezzi with skull-crushing (okay, little exaggerated, yet still…) harshness, hypnotic, nicely skilled vocal elegance by Lena as well as rough, sore sung stuff by Jan, eclectic-electronic percussion programming – it’s just a selection of impressions taken from that very first song alone…
Those electronic devices and elements reappear quite often, more than once going smoothly and organically hand in hand with almost apocalyptic Industrial sequences. I do not think it’s a bizarre idea to think that Sanctum did find certain aspects of inspiration by colleagues like In Slaughter Natives, Morthound, Desiderii Marginis or Brighter Death Now, amongst several others. In Two Minds, for example, is such a composition, once again permanently interchanging in between different structures and moods, with lots of breaks and interactions.
Comparable intensive heaviness reappears a couple of times. Take Decay, for example, once again with the rawer male voice and the use of guitars. It’s like a post-modern version of some Synth-Pop creation, yet for sure performed with an angry attitude. Or Envy, which starts quite pounding and chaotic, like structured Noise on Acid. After almost two minutes, everything slowly turns towards a completely different angle, rather beseeching and semi-orchestral. The lyrics of this track, by the way, are originally written by Hildegard von Bingen, one of the most influential women in the twelfth century. I’d like to invite you to search for information about her in your (local) library or on the net, for she was quite an intriguing personality – but I will not go deeper into this matter right now, for this is not a documentary…
Different creations exhale a certain symphonic excellence, dreamlike spheres of mesmerizing frenzy, balancing in between the rawer edges of Industrial at the one hand, and somewhat dark-fairylike hypnosis with a touch of Ambient-injected gracefulness at the other. Take Juniper Dream, for instance. Tribal percussions, evocative vocals and dual / duelling voices (male / female), scratching and scorned background noises, floating melodies, and so much more; it’s all part of this track. An ominous track like the shorter The Door continues within a comparable path, with a certain Gothic sphere going on. Nightmare too combines those oppressive emotions at the one hand, and that extravert attitude at the other. Escapism and helplessness, all canalised into one single output; Nightmare is an example of the prolific strength that defines Sanctum’s creative view. A piece like Inner Sanctum follows a comparable direction, with inclusion of soft electronic beats, semi-divine keyboard lines, witchy passages and, above all, a great scala on vocal subtlety, ranging from narrative-sung to bewitching. And what to think about Too Real, which initially appears to be a witch’s invocation-alike thing, evolving into an emotive composition, filled with anger, uncertainty and syncope.
And once in a while everything dwells towards a purely unworldly tension of mental slippery. Crescens is such a piece, like a symbiosis of the aural definition of both integrity and expression, of both beauty and ugliness, of both relaxation and discomfort. The same goes for the post-industrialised, even apocalyptic Trance-induced composition Salvation, which title is quite a contradiction, for it feels like the opposite of salvation for sure, which appears in a joint-venture with the strange outlet called Remorse – and here too, I do not expect or feel any remorse at all…
The conclusion is quite simple as is it evident: if you do already own this masterpiece, you do not need to buy this re-issue. I just recommend to play it once again, in case it has been too long. Even after two decades, the uniqueness remains exceptional. If you do not own this album yet, however, then I cannot but ask you, politely, to visit Raubbau’s sources; the next step is clear, is it not?!...