A band name that works beautifully on so many levels – profound, Sci-Fi, comedic – Italian quintet John, The Void’s sound is now firmly attached in the former, having spent time dallying in the first two descriptors. Second album III: Adversa (Argonauta Records) adds a further, more grave distillation of that desolation whilst maintaining a subtle, warm influence.

The sombre, pensive tones of opener ‘Shapeshifter’, complete with eerie synth notes, are soon accompanied by chiming lead chords and it’s easy to believe that the promise of hostility is somewhat misleading: even the searing roar of Marco Zanella is tempered by the Post-Black shimmer beneath it. The gradually increasing pummel still maintains an element of twisted artifice which segues into the ensuing ‘Dark City Of Error’ but here the staccato rhythms are given immediate resonance by slow, humming riffs and an agonised, culminating scream.

Those quieter moments, as effective as they are, rob the early stages of an expected gravity, and the swelling ambience of the title track does nothing to suggest any change in tack. The elegantly chiming beauty of the epic ‘Silent Bearer’, while not exactly dispelling any fears, soon blends a slightly saccharine sweetness with true passion: grinding riffs accompanying that ever-present holler, while the atmospheric keys swirl around moments of sad introspection and deathly fires.

The instrumental ‘A Cold Becoming’ begins with suitably chilled, Countryesque twangs and steadily effusive keys. Rather than providing a pulsating underbelly the initial introduction of rhythm gives an emotional body to the balladic feel, and the gradual swell of both elements works wonderfully, feeding a Scandinavian Melodic Doom vibe. It’s a theme which carries into the tragic opening strains of the penultimate ‘Cursed’, the track bursting into a bellicose yet meaningful bluster while maintaining a Funeral pace.

The closing ‘A Permanent Change’, frustratingly, brings forth another wake-up call. The beefy riffs, the skilled yet hard-hitting precision of Enrico Fabris’ drums, is often dwarfed by a lack of flow from which largely emotionless lead chimes do nothing to detract attention until the eruption of the denouement. Essentially, for all the great music and the harrowing delivery there’s an overall disconnect about III: Adversa which cannot be surmounted and given the undoubted potential and tantalising passages, that’s the saddest element: it stops a good album from being a great one.

6 / 10

PAUL QUINN