One of the oddest things about metal is how it can strive so hard for originality and identity yet remain so indebted to established concepts and trends that the entire thing becomes an exercise in futility. Folk metal and its offshoots Celtic and Viking metal are three of the biggest offenders, recycling the same old tales of romanticised warriors spurning the advance of Christianity with their noble warriors and earth-worshipping traditions, and refusing to admit that Bathory stopped being good when Quorthorn swapped darkness and evil for pomp and circumstance. Throwing in as many ‘traditional’ instruments as the recording budget allows is apparently a measure of how authentic a band is and in an effort to prove this, Italians Furor Gallico have dug very deep indeed.
While the numerous band members can undoubtedly play their instruments very well, with the jovial Celtic melodies of the tin whistle ever flowing and the soothing violin giving proceedings a minor touch of class, the music itself is so heavily indebted to Swiss neighbours Eluveitie that one wonders why they just don’t declare themselves a tribute act and be done with it. From the budget melo-death riffs that fail to capture the imagination when the aforementioned whistle has ceased to the generic grunts and snarls of vocalist Pagan (yes, really), almost everything on the band’s sophomore effort Songs from the Earth (Scarlet) is derivative, cliché-ridden and has been already been done before and better. Some hope is offered by the Thin Lizzy meets Finntroll mashup of ‘Squass’ and the stirring melodies of ‘Wild Jig of Beltaine’ but this is scant reward for the eye-watering sixty-four minute slog the band have served up here.
If Furor Gallico put as much effort into forging their own identity and sound instead of expertly replicating their elders and betters then they could be something special. Until then, a lowly slot on the Paganfest tour will likely be the pinnacle of their achievements.
5.0/10
JAMES CONWAY