Despite this seasoned Italian composer having fifteen albums to his credit, Phase IX is Lorenzo Montaná’s first American solo release, with hopefully more to come in the future. Like Projekt’s recent output so far this year, it is also an electronic album. Perhaps even more electronic than Steve Roach and Erik Wollo’s recent outings in that it becomes a bit cybernetic, even tinging on industrial. Maybe “Land’s End” doesn’t feel it, but the unexpectably depressive “Glopsyche Eclipse” certainly comes across like the sounds of a decimated future world ravaged by some sort of out of control virus. You can still hear it whispering through the mainframe, asking you if you’d like to participate in a computer game. Perhaps that’s how they died. “Dhalg Fu” brings up the mood a little, making things (slightly) more light-hearted, but this still kind of feels a bit like Deus Ex, where you’ll have to be on your guard at any moments notice. Unlike the norm that I have been getting from the label, Phase IX actually isn’t the kind of “calm down and relax” sort of record, but it may improve your focus. Electrophiles will absolutely love it, but I feel that it may have a misleading album cover. The cover itself features trees and smoke, but what I’m hearing here seems like it comes from a world without trees and possibly a sort of steel grey sky. In fact, I’m almost curious as to whether or not the soundtrack in the Shadowrun Remake series might sound a bit similar to this. I’d laugh a bit if that was true, but certainly wouldn’t be turned off – because it is brilliant in the effect captured. I’d just hire someone from DeviantArt rather quickly to make an industrial background cover and then place the the title over it. Probably wouldn’t take no more than an hour’s time in Photoshop. 2017 is the age of wonders, after all. (At least technologically.) As we move on, the industrial feeling continues as it duets with a few different manners of beeps, buzzes and reflective mirrors which once again, do not feel peaceful. I definitely get the feeling that I am in a world by which I am an alien, that I am not here of my own free will, and that those who lurk around every corner of the place do not have my best interests in mind. If you can meditate to this, that’s great – but some of the dimmer effects utilized in the piece might put a damper on your path towards enlightenment. If that wasn’t enough, then we have “Fall’s Odyssey” which is yet another teary piece. If this was a science fiction novel, it would be that of a dystopian piece where many beloved characters are killed off rather quickly. “Ura Sexnet” seems to pump in some mysticism, which is a necessary break from all of the gloom, while “Opal Cave” pushes in heavy tufts of ritual. This might be the closest we’ll get to hearing the sounds that a robot might make while worshipping it’s gods, whatever forms they might choose in that instance. It certainly makes me curious, but no doubt terrifies most of you. I know that human gods can be a bit of a pain to begin with and we don’t really need robot gods, but this is more or less the closest I’ve heard to an industrial ritual and I find that quite appealing. It’s no wonder that the track spans over ten minutes in length, as both Indian and Egyptian influence seamlessly finds it’s way inside, making for a truly authentic and yet still very cybernetic religious experience that is unlike any I’ve ever heard. Mr. Montaná, I’m afraid that I do not have a very good grasp on your back catalog, but if you might happen to have anymore of these “robotic rituals” I would be more than willing to hunt them down. I’d also encourage readers to do the same, if the very idea of an electronic or robotic ritual peaks their curiousity as much as it did mine. I’m used to the sounds of crickets chirping and wind blowing amidst the trees while the sounds of tribal drums illustrate a shamanic atmosphere, but this is definitely a new shade of color as far as I’m concerned. The rest of the album follows the same melancholy aura, bathed in the smoke and heat of industrial pistons, while getting more meditative as “Naadmir” and closer “Strings Of Patience” both bring a sense of tranquillity to the performance. In the end I feel that Phase IX offers a completely different atmosphere than some of us are used to, putting it right between the layers of catharsis and serenity. Just don’t forget about the robot ritual. (The Grim Lord)
