There must be a time machine out there somewhere that is set to randomly select a Swedish band and transport them back in time to the halcyon days of deep dark synth pop to gather the seeds of inspiration before returning them to the here and now. Certainly, Eternal Death seem drawn inexorably to the acquired sounds of the primitive electronics of the past throughout their self-titled album but they still retain something of today.
I suppose you could put it down to the generally depressing state of the world today. I suppose you could put anything and everything down to that but Elin Berlin and Johan Angergard – for it is they who drive Eternal Death relentlessly forward – also throw some style into the mix with the beat being notable for its robotic simplicity while the swirling swathes of synth wash inexorably over anything and everything that might ever been of the dance floor or Depeche Mode. It’s a persuasive combination nonetheless with Ms. Berlin’s voice slipstreamed into a sea of reverb as if to prove that she will forever swim and never sink.
It would be easy therefore to regard the songs on this album as consistently downbeat but the reality is that the light is there if you want it. Not daylight of course but the neon lights of the city after dark or the spinning strobes of the night club with everything that once made the feet of the cognoscenti dance – all the way from Eurodisco of “Head” to the floor crumbling “Body” – destined for a near inevitable post midnight remix. Perhaps the most appealing song, however, is the laconic “Love” that, in between its rigid musical programming, manages to suggest that Alice is still alive and well in Wonderland.
Is that a white rabbit I see before me? Why does he have a laptop?