Band:	Thy Catafalque
Album:	XII: A Gyönyörű Álmok Ezután Jönnek
Style:	Avantgarde black metal
Release date:	November 15, 2024
A review by:	musclassia

01. Piros Kocsi, Fekete Éj
02. Mindenevő
03. Vasgyár
04. Világnak Világa
05. Nyárfa, Nyírfa
06. Lydiához
07. Vakond
08. Ködkirály
09. Aláhullás
10. A Gyönyörű Álmok Ezután Jönnek

With such a breadth of ideas and influences in the songwriting of Thy Catafalque, there’s room to orient different albums towards distinct vibes, whether it be the playfulness of Naiv or extremity of Alföld; 2021’s Vadak did a good job of spanning the whole range of the project’s scope, and XII: A Gyönyörű Álmok Ezután Jönnek is similar in its intentions.

This twelfth album from Tamás Kátai’s pioneering project comes 25 years after debut record Sublunary Tragedies, but over half of those albums have come in the past 10 years (4 of them coming in the current decade alone), as Kátai has ratcheted up the productivity of the project. He’s not struggled for ideas as a result of writing so much material, however, as Thy Catafalque in the 2020s is arguably in as rich a vein of form as it’s ever been. XII: A Gyönyörű Álmok Ezután Jönnek thematically takes cues from Hungarian history, but is arguably forward-thinking in other ways, as Kátai for the first time involves an external producer, Gábor Vári, in the mixing and mastering of the album.

Alföld had been historical in its own way, representing an intentional return to the project’s heavier past; while extreme metal is still an important factor in modern Thy Catafalque output, it is but one part of a mélange of styles that also draws from folk music, prog and electronica. Those particularly keen on the direction Kátai went in with Alföld will likely find the first half of XII most in line with their preferences, as the stretch from “Mindenevő” to “Világnak Világa” is the most consistently intense on the album.

The almost Behemoth-esque ballistic blackened death in the former song is a rare extreme, but the trio of songs still otherwise features growls, shrieks, blackened tones, and an array of guitar solos (of which there are many excellent ones across the album), including a classic old school chromatic death metal one early in “Vasgyár”. Having said all that, Thy Catafalque songs are inherently unpredictable, and the saxophone and violin cameos concluding “Mindenevő” and “Vasgyár”, respectively, are just some of the non-extreme elements to be heard; “Világnak Világa” arguably belongs to melodeath more than any particular sound with the clean vocals and guitar leads in the chorus.

Thy Catafalque is typically referred to as Kátai’s one-man project, but it never feels entirely apt when one considers the litany of guests recruited on each album. XII is no exception, with over 20 vocalists and other instrumentalists making various contributions. This includes some familiar names, particularly for long-standing fans of the band; both Attila Bakos and Martina Veronika Horváth lend their vocals once more to Thy Catafalque, each of them appearing on opening track “Piros Kocsi, Fekete Éj”, a more upbeat and melodic song than the trio that come immediately afterwards. Another notable name appearing on the record is Jo Quail, whose cello is one of several non-metal instruments contributing to “Ködkirály”.

As mentioned earlier, folk music is as intrinsically associated with Thy Catafalque’s style as extreme metal, and representation can be found at the start of XII’s second half in the pair of songs “Lydiához” and “Vakond”. The former is a cover of the Polish folk song "Czerwone Korale" by Brathanki (the bonus edition of the album features another cover, that of Omega’s “Babylon”), and after opening with what I think is a bouzouki, it features a charming trade-off between the vocals of Horváth and Gábor Dudás. “Vakond” offers a very different style; while vocal-less, this lively track opens with whistling that harks to the old West, and the whistled motif is then taken up by various instruments, such as bouzouki, keyboard, electric guitar, trumpet and trombone, each in turn either repeating or evolving the motif. This carries on until just past the midway mark, when there’s a sudden shift into moody piano and subsequently electronics with a touch of synthwave to them.

“Vakond” is a fantastic track, and possibly my favourite here, but it’s given stiff competition by “Ködkirály”, another song of two halves. The former is sustained by a melancholic spacey synth motif, which is accompanied by evocative layered singing by Ivett Dudas, along with French horn, cor anglais and cello; as the motif eventually fades away, the horn briefly heralds in a stark shift in tone, before sinister heavy guitar sounds and harsh shrieks pop up, delivering a much heavier second half that eventually concludes with solemn clean singing. It’s an outstanding song, and one that the alt-metallic “Aláhullás” struggles to follow up (although I oddly get slight System Of A Down vibes from this track), but the concluding title track is a very nice finale: much lighter, but with pleasing clean and electric guitar motifs, a nice sing-along feel to the chorus, and one final strong guitar solo, this time rendered with plenty of wah-wah.

There’s so much going on across XII: A Gyönyörű Álmok Ezután Jönnek that in spite of all the above description, I still feel like there’s several important elements and moments I’m leaving unmentioned. Vadak has become my favourite release from Thy Catafalque in the years since its release, and this new album doesn’t quite match up to it, but it delivers much of the variety and inspiration that made Vadak such a compelling record. Over 25 years on from the genesis of this project, Thy Catafalque is as fresh and creative as ever.