There is a special shrine in the Temple ov Death, located just to the left of Chuck Schuldiner’s effigy. It’s somewhat surreptitiously hidden behind a curtain embroidered with a strange and slightly appropriative mix of symbols. On that shrine, before which I prostrate myself often and with great supplicative zeal, are set the pictures, discarded steel picks, cracked drumsticks, vibrant vinyls and other assorted paraphernalia pertaining to an elite echelon of bands. They are those eminent masters of death metal, often of the Progressive or Technical variant, who not only manage to honor the legacy of Death, early Opeth, Cynic and other prog-death titans, but embellish and enrich these beastly tones with influences from particular musical and cultural traditions.
On this hallowed and colorful pedestal, perched alongside legends such as Wilderun, Fleshgod Apocalypse, Gorod, Ex Deo, Nile, Aeternam, Acrania, Scarab and Amorphis, French-Spanish band Impureza have definitively cemented the position they claimed with 2017s La Caída de Tonatiuh by unleashing their new conquest Alcázares on the unsuspecting mass of pit fiends who pray at this particular altar of demise. Impureza sling a strand of progressive, thrashy death metal mixed with a generous and triumphant helping of flamenco and a pinch of symphonic flourish. They (re)conquer the ears, heart, and mind not just musically but also by offering another historical concept album sung, roared and bellowed entirely in Spanish.
After adeptly setting the stage with well-executed flamenco intro “Verdiales”, Impureza immediately pull out all the stops on “Bajo Las Tizonas De Toledo”. Along with lead single “Pestilencia”, this track shows Impureza’s nimble genius in melding Flamenco scales and rhythms with blistering, sand-scorching Ddeath metal riffing, acoustic guitar flourishes and an absolutely winning shout-along chorus. Since this promo began it’s been the reconquista of my ears, I have woken up most mornings with the chorus of either track firmly stuck in my brain. While these might be the most immediately gratifying tracks on the album, it is bursting at the nigh-invisible seams. Alcázares brings to mind the experience of hiking up a hairpin-bend path in the Spanish Pyrenees, each surprising turn offering a new vista of dangerous beauty that challenges the previous one still burned on your retinas. In the end it might be the somewhat denser, deathier tracks like “Reconquistar Al-Ándalus” and “El Ejército De Los Fallecidos De Alarcos” that offer the greatest marvels. That is a contentious statement, since this album will take me many, many more spins to fully digest. Like the best Progressive Death Metal albums, it firmly drops the hooks from the first wondrous exhibition while promising a new and enrapturing discovery with every subsequent listen.
While Impureza vanquish their audience with an entirely unique style and sounds, there are definite comparisons to be drawn to some other great bands and albums. The excellent use of acoustic and electric guitar virtuosity invokes First Fragment’s Gloire Éternelle (2021), while the tasteful use of flamenco melodies invokes Aeternam’s MENA-inflected proggy Melo-Death magic. Where the fretless bass slithers deftly forward in the mix, such as on the intro of “La Orden Del Yelmo Negro”, around the four-and-a-half-minute mark of “Castigos Ecclesiásticos” and on gorgeous late album interlude “Ruina Del Alcázar”Impureza channel Sacrificed Alliance’s bass-forward prog-death with verve and aplomb. Echoes of Nile and Scarab can be heard in the riffing, and while there is less drama, bombast and symphonic embellishment here, I’m also getting some ADE (Legions), Ex Deo and hints of Fleshgod Apocalypse.
Each of the four band members offers a stellar performance on Alcázares. Lionel Cano Muñoz shreds, plucks, runs and rampages through inspired guitar compositions on rhythm,. lead and Spanish guitars, tilting one virtuous run against another dexterous phrase in a Quixotic duel Cervantes could be proud of. Florian Saillard’s nimble, limber fretless bass playing is wonderfully incorporated, sometimes taking the lead for brief pockets of deep and viscous melody, and otherwise providing part of the album’s strong rhythmic foundation. Guilhem Auge’s drumming is tight, technical and virtuous. There is so much happening on this album that he usually sits comfortably at Impureza’s base, pounding out furious blasts and fills so complementing that they sometimes escape notice altogether. In the context of this album I’d consider that a positive, but I almost feel bad for the guy sometimes, at least until the opening salvo and subsequent skin-battering fury of “Covadonga” takes hold of my poor spine again. Last but not least is Esteban Martín on varied and vicious vocals. He commands the album from the vanguard with a mix of powerful and varied mid-range death roars, gruff-around-the-edges cleans and some very compelling gang-shoued bellows.
As an attentive reader might have noticed by now, I have little to no criticism on offer here. At most, the album overwhelms the listener with so much quality that the album can overwhelm at times, leading to something of a breaking-in period where it comes to appreciating the finer points of the album. This is greatly alleviated by the well-placed Flamenco-forward passages, however, each offering an almost playful breather before Impureza blast the ears with the next charging riff. Also, while closer “Santa Inquisición” is a worthy bookend to this masterful album, It ends rather abruptly. While one could argue that less is sometimes more, a last instrumental outro, or even a reshuffle that puts “Ruina Del Alcázar” at the end of the album might have been even better. The latter option would lead to a fairly dense four-track run though, and at a fairly lean 49 minutes Impureza could have easily gotten away with tacking another acoustic nugget onto to mirror “Verdiales”.
Reaching the top of the exhilarating adrenaline-fueled peak that is Alcázares, the listener is rewarded with memories of great musical vistas and jagged cliff-riffs tumbling over one another, each fighting for the right of immediate revisitation. Unlike climbing an actual mountain, little fatigue prevents one from immediately starting again from the bottom, each subsequent reconquista of these lofty heights will undoubtedly uncover new and exciting revelations. I’ll surely be spinning this one many times yet. Don’t sleep on this triumphantly conquering opus of Death by way of flamenco. I’m confident it should end up on quite a few lists by year’s end.