The Path Seldom Mortal Goes

Stereotypes rarely exist without some degree of truth being connected to them, and the prevailing cliche among bands hailing from the Italian peninsula playing in the symphonic power metal style is that it will necessarily be a Rhapsody (Of Fire) rip-off, or otherwise so heavily informed by the exploits of Turilli and Staropoli that it may as well be one. Arguably the most effective way in bucking such a stereotype would be to look like a Rhapsody, employ bombastic orchestrations like a Rhapsody, and even feature a soaring tenor vocalist like a Rhapsody, yet somehow come out sounding very little like said band. This is the path that has been taken by the obscure Italian act Mystic Twilight on their conceptual nod to all things knights and dragons The Path Seldom Mortal Goes, an album that employs all of the obligatory elements from the Rhapsody arsenal from the film score styled orchestrations to the shredding neo-classical guitar lines, but throw in some rather unconventional progressive elements and throw caution to the wind as they pen epic songs that seldom drop below the 6 minute mark.

There is definitely a strong rustic charm to an album of this persuasion, as it showcases the utter prowess of all the musicians involved while forgoing a lot of the niceties that many better known acts enjoy. Chief among these is the sort of posh production values that have generally graced Rhapsody Of Fire's albums since they departed the Limb Music roster, which Mystic Twilight lack in favor of something far more comparable to the working class mixing job that defined Legendary Tales. Truth be told, the production of this album listens far closer to something that Manowar might have put out in the mid 1980s, which is fitting given that this band's proclivity to writing similarly drawn out tales of heroics with loads of ballad-like interludes is about as obvious as a steel gauntlet to the face. No clearer representation of this could be made than the massive 15 minute song "The Council", which wheels through a heavy deluge of interludes fit for a full on book on tape, and has all the epic choirs and pomp to bridge the gap between Into Glory Ride and Symphony Of Enchanted Lands.

Having said all of that, this isn't a full on homage to Manowar, any more than it would be a complete Rhapsody Of Fire rip-off. There are select places spread throughout these songs where the instrumentation finds itself banging out oddball sections that wouldn't be out of place on a Dream Theater album, not to mention that the bass work tends to wander about merrily between sounding like Joey Demaio, Steve Harris and occasionally John Myung. This mixture of progressive influences is at its most blatant on the ironically shorter length song "Winds Of Uncertainty", which sees the whole band sort of frolicking around an assortment of rock, jazz and neo-classical elements while somehow managing to tie it all into their armor clad crusader persona. Even when things would seem to be leaning towards a purer power metal sound such as the chunky riff-driven "Dawns That Never Begin" or the drawn out conclusion with folksy and orchestrated balladry blaring "The Battle", there is this underlying progressive tilt that weaves in and out of the Manowar and Helloween influences.

One of the biggest problems in approaching an album this ambitious, let alone one that is so difficult to full categorize, is that it may well fly over the heads of its intended target audience. The average trustee of complex musicality as embodied in bands like Circus Maximus and Pagan's Mind are generally not accustomed to the sort of sword and shield exploits that this album conveys, and the likewise dragon obsessed power metal junkie may find an album of this type too convoluted to really grab onto, as hinted in the generally mixed reaction that Wind Rose's debut album Shadows over Lothadruin received when it was released a few years after this. It's likely a testament to this fact that this album stands as the only thing to be released by this project and that their current status is uncertain. Overall, it is a highly involved album that will be more of a grower for those patient enough to comprehend the endless games of notes that it's comprised of, and while the author of this review continues to be astounded by its complexity, he definitely understands why most will probably not take to it.

This review is dedicated to the memory of Christopher Santaniello, aka Diamhea. (R.I.P.)