Wilderness of Mirrors

When a band labels themselves 'oriental metal', my cynical inner critic usually starts preparing a defensive bunker against the inevitable onslaught of turgid, over-produced synth-pads and derivative flute flourishes. Myrath, however, have occupied this niche for so long that they have earned a certain level of immunity from the easy 'cliché' labels. On 'Wilderness of Mirrors', the Ukrainian veterans continue to march forward with a sense of purpose that is both impressive and, at times, delightfully indulgent.

This isn't a sprint; it's a trek through a dense, fog-heavy forest. The album clocks in at nearly forty-seven minutes, a deliberate pace that demands the listener lean in. From the opening moments of 'The Funeral', the band establishes their sonic architecture: a dense weave of heavy riffs and ethereal melodies that refuse to settle into a single comfortable groove. They aren't just playing metal; they are constructing an atmosphere, one that feels expansive enough to get lost in without actually needing a map.

It is a masterclass in atmospheric world-building, even if the path through the 'Wilderness' is occasionally overgrown with familiar tropes.

'Until the End' and 'Breathing Near the Roar' serve as the foundational pillars of the record's midpoint. Here, the production is polished enough to satisfy the earMUSIC crowd but heavy enough to keep the grit of the metal roots intact. The transitions between the exotic, shimmering melodies and the crushing, low-tuned chugs are handled with a deft touch. It's the 'weaving' that defines them—how a Middle Eastern-inspired scale can bleed into a progressive metal breakdown without feeling like two different bands suddenly and awkwardly swapped seats.

'Les Enfants Du Soleil' is arguably the heart of the affair. It captures that specific brand of high-fantasy storytelling that Myrath excels at. While the 'fantasy' element can sometimes tip into the saccharine, the sheer musicality here keeps it grounded. The melody is infectious, and the progression feels earned. It's the kind of track that rewards repeat listens, rewarding the listener for navigating its lyrical and musical labyrinth.

However, let's address the elephant in the room for the hardcore purists: the 'polish'. 'Wilderness of Mirrors' is undeniably smooth. There are no jagged edges here, no primal screams designed to shatter glass. It is sophisticated, perhaps even a bit too comfortable in its skin at points. 'The Clown' and 'Soul of My Soul' lean heavily into the theatrical, and while the musicianship is undeniable, it can occasionally feel like they are leaning on their established tropes a bit too hard for the sake of the 'vibe.'

Then we reach 'Edge of the Night' and 'Echoes of the Fallen'. These are the moments where the 'prog' tag earns its stripes. The shifting time signatures and the way the guitars dance around the vocal lines suggest a band that is deeply confident in their technical abilities. They aren't just playing notes; they are painting a picture. It's grand, ambitious stuff that demands a decent pair of headphones and a quiet room to fully digest.

Concluding with 'Through the Seasons', the album rounds off with a sense of completion. The diversity of the tracklist shows a band that knows exactly what they are doing. They aren't trying to reinvent the wheel of metal; they are trying to decorate it with gold leaf and jewels from a dozen different cultures. It might not provide the raw, visceral punch of a stripped-back death metaler, but it offers a journey that is arguably more rewarding for the ears.

'Wilderness of Mirrors' hits that solid 8.0 mark because it succeeds in its own high-concept goals. It is a beautiful, albeit densely decorated, hall of mirrors. While my cynical bones might have preferred a bit more grit and a few less symphonic flourishes, I cannot deny the craftsmanship on display. Myrath has crafted a majestic, sprawling epic that stands as a testament to their unique position in the heavy metal landscape. It's not an easy listen, but it is a rewarding one for those willing to wander into the thicket.