Review: Fleshgod Apocalypse Again Treat Us to a Spectacle of Beauty and Brutality on Opera

I’ve never been to the opera, sadly. I’d love to, but for one reason or another, I just haven’t had the opportunity to experience it for myself yet. I’m sure I’ll get around to it one day, but until then, I’ll just have to make do with the slew of highly theatrical metal bands who incorporate operatic vocals and themes into their own music. And if that’s the kind of metal we’re talking about, then of course we have to talk about the undisputed kings (and queen) of that particular realm, Italy’s own Fleshgod Apocalypse.

These cats have been pummeling our collective eardrums with their signature, highly cinematic blend of bombastic orchestration and skull crushing hyper speed death metal for over a decade and a half now, and we’ve been thanking them for it and asking for more like good little sluts ever since. When one thinks of Fleshgod Apocalypse, the word that most often comes to mind is one we’re all familiar with and have used quite frequently, but nobody else embodies it quite as efficiently and intentionally as they do, and that is “epic”. There’s really no other word to accurately describe what this band brings to the table; the swelling horns, string sections, and haunting choirs conjure up images of some billion-dollar summer blockbuster movie where a natural disaster or some titanic monster lays waste to an unsuspecting city, all layered on top of blindingly fast drums, crystal clear arpeggio-heavy solos, and roaring vocals calling for the death of all things mundane. This band just plain kicks ass, plain and simple.

A lot has changed for Fleshgod Apocalypse since the release of their previous album, 2019’s Veleno. They brought some fresh blood into the fold, namely drummer extraordinaire (read “human machine gun”) Eugene Ryabchenko, second guitarist Fabio Bartoletti, and the phenomenally talented soprano songbird Veronica Bordacchini. They seemed poised to catch a second wind that nobody really thought they needed in the first place, but then COVID happened and fucked everything up for everyone. Then, just when things were starting to open up again, frontman and Fleshgod mastermind Francesco Paoli went and took himself a nice little tumble down a freaking mountain in 2021 and ended up having to undergo a multitude of surgeries, wondering all the while if he’d ever be able to pick up an instrument again. Thankfully he eventually ended up making a full recovery, and anyone who ever doubted he would make the most of that second chance will surely eat their words (preferably al fresco with a side of fresh bruschetta and a glass of red wine to wash it all down) with one listen to the band’s newest offering Opera.

After the obligatory (though still quite lovely) theatrical intro where we are first introduced to Bordacchini’s honeyed voice, the band hit the ground running with the cyclonic and aptly titled “I Can Never Die”, a powerful declaration of ironclad determination to make their mark on the world and ensure that their works will far outlive the mortal bodies that created them. The melody of the chorus is incredibly infectious as well, to the point where I actually caught myself humming it when I wasn’t even listening to anything at the time, so that should give you some idea of the caliber of songwriting on display. The following track “Pendulum” is a little bit slower, focusing heavily on massive stop-go rhythms, and ironically enough the title is also something of a portent for the pacing of the rest of the album. “Bloodclock” ramps things back up to 11 at first, but with occasional breaks to build ample amounts of tension, as well as an extended wide-open middle section to set the stage for Veronica to strut her stuff, which she does with aplomb.

“At War with My Soul” sounds like the marching of an army of demons so massive that it shakes the ground beneath their cloven feet. It sticks to one simple and straightforward rhythm for the majority of its runtime, but luckily it doesn’t suffer for it, and in fact actually reminds me of the soundtrack for some high-octane action sequence from a movie or video game. There are a few instances like this where the considerable momentum takes a back seat in favor of more grandiose and highly melodic atmosphere, particularly in songs like “Matricide 8.21” and the penultimate track “Til Death Do Us Part” (which I personally wasn’t a huge fan of, but I understand why they included it, it’s just not my style).

However, if it’s mind-boggling speed and technicality that you’re looking for, something more akin to the first couple of albums and EP’s that first caught our attention a decade ago, then look no further than the sixth track “Morphine Waltz”. That fucker is, to put it mildly, an absolute doozy, and without a doubt my personal favorite song from Opera. Those lightning fast, perfectly executed arpeggios on both the guitar and piano at the same time would be more than enough to make me geek out, but then the band top themselves once more by eschewing the typical dynamic between harsh and clean vocals as Bordacchini takes on a much more prominent and driving role during the main verses. She pushes herself to her limit too, to the point where you can literally hear her vocal cords straining to add a little extra grit to some of the highest notes in her register while the guitars and drums fly around her in a frenetic, furious dance. This, my friends, is peak Fleshgod Apocalypse. This is exactly what we came here for, and they know it.

Now, if I had to make one minor nitpick about this album, it would have to be that it kind of peters out towards the very end. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned the word “pacing” in every single one of my reviews, and this one’s no different. If it were up to me, I would have put “Til Death Do Us Part” directly after “Matricide” to create one long sweeping ballad-like section, and then ramped things up for the extravagant final crescendo with the much faster and harder-hitting “Per Aspera Ad Astra” leading into the slow and somber instrumental closing title track. Go out with a bang, I say. But, then again, that’s just my own personal preference; at the end of the day this album still kicks ass wholesale, and that’s all that really matters.

If Opera is any indication, then Fleshgod Apocalypse are surely on track to solidify themselves as one of the all-time death metal greats. They could call it quits immediately after this album and ride off into the sunset as legends, but we all know that’s not going to happen anytime soon, and we are all the more fortunate for it. Staunch naysayers and purists might view the symphonic elements as a gimmick, but I like to think of it as a meeting of the sacred and the profane. It’s death metal as a legitimate form of art, paying homage to the sheer theatricality and technical mastery of classical music while maximizing its effects and modernizing it for today’s audience. There is beauty to be gleaned from relentless savagery if you have a steady hand and a keen mind, and that is exactly what is on display here: vision, ambition, and a bona fide talent for creating perfectly controlled chaos. It’ll kick your teeth in, but it’ll leave you with a smile on your face all the same.

Opera is available now via Nuclear Blast Records, order your copy here