Ea - Ea II review
|Release date:||March 2009|
2009 was the year for Ea to unleash their second assault which for one more time unfolds slowly, steadily and methodically with the minimal and simplistic title Ea II. The artwork is obscure, it could be an x-ray, but still, you can't define for sure. This time the guitars play a more important role, with a more melodic tone as well along with heavy lurking riffing. Ea II keeps the balance between guitars and keyboards due to the less and kind of more simplistic usage of the second along with the more diverse presentation of the first.
The overall atmosphere in the two compositions that consist of the second effort of this Russian(?) act is more melancholic than the one on Ea Taesse, presenting a more obscure side in terms of atmosphere rather than the duality of dream/nightmare, here lies solitude, with glimpses of utter serenity, like on the first Untitled with the sample of dropping water and the floating ethereal keyboards; you can't resist but lose yourself. The real surprise though lies in the second Untitled, a variety of ambiances and emotions, with a more Skepticism aura at times, this wierd haunting menace that slowly devours you. And if you thought that vocals in this album had a lesser part, on this track they surpass themselves in terms of usage in Ea's music, somewhere inbetween grunts and boiling whispers ready to explode. In the end, you find yourself waiting for the Lord to deliver your soul, but, either you have no soul, or there is no God; and you're still there. All you can do is press the "play" button once again and journey into the unknown.
Definitely another beautiful album from this mysterious Russian collaboration, or entity, the second in terms of the trilogy they hold for us all, funeral doom of course, but differently approached in terms of atmosphere and presentation. Ea II won't disappoint the fans of the slow atmospheric scene, on the contrary, it will keep them good company for more than 45 minutes.
||Written on 21.09.2010 by "It is myself I have never met, whose face is pasted on the underside of my mind."|
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