The Redeemer

Many a mogul here at MA have stated, at one point or another, how great and expansive the Greek power metal scene is, with myriad examples of why the fiscally sketchy Mediterranean country rules the airwaves with a steel fist. Thus, it's my turn to wax wily on yet further sun bleached outfit by casual name of Darklon, which first launched its heavy metal conquest in 2019 with Rise From Death before buckling down through that now forgotten but forever lame global pandemic in order to serve us The Redeemer, a no nonsense and compact volley consisting of eight unique and incongruous tracks, without meddling atmospheric interludes, which grow tighter and more defined with each spin.

A promising hallmark of any haggard or fresh faced aspirant to the horn studded crown lies in the haphazard way similar band comparisons fail to come easy, and this is the quirky case for Darklon, even if front man Nikos' hearty and gruff mid range effuses wayward hints of familiarity at every turn. Lone axe man D.K.'s striking riffs and solos skirt a type of power meets thrash metal vibe with essential touches of Epicurean flair reminiscent of fellow national workhorse Hercules (which gallantly rounds the bend with its eighth full-length in seven years) whilst the muscular battery combo of bassist Savvas and drummer Sevan fits like peas in a pod...not only in given names.

With variably rocking material such as this, it's hard to avoid overt play by play, but know in your metal heart you can't go wrong with titular dirge "The Redeemer" as it rushes out of the dog house with stentorian narrative verve followed by a real face racker of a riff, a perfect start where Nikos goes nuts on the opening verse thanks to his ungodly, ever-bent, chest pumped wails. Alternately, the chorus rests fantastical and placid above it all, like the eye of the storm within a cyclone. On "Rancor and Agony", Savvas's bass resounds with pride and glory; Sevan's drums, unrelenting fury and impunity. One of the faster numbers complete with neoclassical leads, it ranks among many top highlights.

Aside from sounding like a RAM title, the rather neurotic and robotic "I Am Death" spirals into an ascending and mildly Arabesque back-and-forth odyssey which doesn't overstay its hand or welcome, whizzing by our ghastly wind blown brows with harried panache. A pair of doomy cuts also wedge themselves into the fray, the intriguingly captioned "Lamasthu's Claws" and admittedly Pentagram/Place Of Skulls evocative "The Downfall", briefest yet most memorable track after "The Redeemer". Otherwise, a conducive return to alabaster form resides in "Iron Glory" and "The Bloodstone", with former's harmonious refrain turning into a helluva earworm.

The Judas Priest ode cranks the rebel factor, standing in as de facto gang crowed anthem for a still spawning Hellenic juggernaut such as Darklon (hold the "c"). As inferred, slickly saturnine Vic Griffin tendencies surface throughout "The Downfall" until closer and lone track above five minutes "Way Back Home" loudly bojangles to Gehenna and beyond thanks to its prominent bass line and air of solemn finality. Despite its cover art resembling a third rate indie game, you risk nothing in lighting up Darklon's The Redeemer.