light at the end of the black tunnel

Black metal in a class of its own - not necro, not symphonic, just great musicians with great songs. There are two female singers, trading off melodic and screeched vocal styles. The interaction between guitar and bass guitar is strong and complentary. The tempos tend to be midpaced, showing off the basic-yet-clear production. Even the lyrics buck black metal cliches. This is one of the only black metal albums since Darkthrone's "A Blaze In the Northern Sky" to really kept my attention, and reward it.

Originality

Women are finally coming into old-school metal, not hair-metal, and in an increasingly big way. They are also bringing a maturity and creativity to True Metal that comes as a real infusion of fesh energy and truth that we really need. Kudos! This is an excellent offering, because it embodies these things through two things: forthright attitude (passion) and mood (atmospheric guitars). There is true artistry here.

Superb Femetal

Let's assume for a moment that you don't initially realize you are listening to two female vocalists. The music is good if not slightly unrefined. I would like to hear a little more creativity in the melody but there is still a lot to like. I am particularly fond of the brooding sound of the guitars. All that being said, what seals it for me is the wonderful dynamic of the vocal styling. That aggressive female voice is matched perfectly with clean vocals from time to time. Maybe it's because I'm biased toward a band trying to make it but the vocals here seem very honest and passionate. I'm sold.

Like most of the foremost metallic subgenres (but arguably more than any other), black metal has broadened in definition to include a confounding variety of styles, ranging from the most primitive to the most avant-garde music imaginable. San Francisco’s ever-fascinating Ludicra fall somewhere betwixt these two extremes thanks to an assortment of beguiling contradictions, including but not limited to: “beauty and the beast” vocal styles; evenly contrasted melodic sensibility and uncompromising aggression, and sophisticated arrangements executed by relatively traditional instrumentation of guitars/bass/drums. But perhaps most distinctively, they steer well clear of black metal’s “into the wild” clique, and all their over-abused themes (Mother Nature’s mysteries, shadowy forests, pagan rituals, and vengeful pixies), to wallow in squalid urban decay, instead. To that end, they’ve gone and named their third long-player, Fex Urbis Lex Orbis, after the ancient Latin saying made famous in Les Miserables, meaning “Scum of the city, law of the world.” A concept album, in other words, its characters begin their dreaded workday commute via the reticent, foot-dragging advance of “Dead City,” then experience a short-lived jolt of morning coffee on the musically more energetic, but lyrically equally despairing, “In Fever.” Next up, stark and haunting guitar lines (reminiscent of Ozzy Osbourne’s “Diary of a Madman”) usher in the album’s piece de resistance, “Veils,” which “goes postal” in due course with explosive fits of instrumental and vocal rage, courtesy of versatile singer Laurie Sue Shanaman. The ensuing “Only a Moment” explores a variety of tempos and dynamics as it gradually crescendos into an exquisitely orchestrated, piano-enhanced climax (evocative of guitarist John Cobett’s other group, Hammers of Misfortune), and the closing epic, “Collapse,” portrays exactly that: the city’s — and its denizens — ultimate, claustrophobic downfall over the course of 12 tormented minutes. In short, black metal doesn’t get any more thought-provoking, nor is it typically rooted in such real-world problems (as opposed to ancient legends and good ol’ Beelzebub) than those illustrated by Ludicra’s admittedly grim viewpoint. The end result may still be filled with feelings of misanthropic ire and suicidal depression, but at least the means of achieving them are more tangible and, oftentimes memorable, than most. – Eduardo Rivadavia