Website: Emilie Autumn
“Victoriandustrialâ€.
Never has one word so effectively summed up a musical effort more than the above, coined by Ms. Autumn herself, in relation to Opheliac. Combine the programming elements of industrial, the dark tone and mood of goth/darkwave, and a distinct Victorian backdrop, both in music and writing, and the end result is Opheliac, a two-disc CD that about as confusing as you’d expect.
Emilie creates a product that is stylistically interesting and vaguely reminiscent of Switchblade Symphony, if perhaps a bit more accessible. This is not to say that the album isn’t odd, but rather that in many cases, it tends to come together in a fashion that could be more readily appreciated by those who are not acclimated to this sort of music. Songs like “Misery Loves Companyâ€, “Let the Record Showâ€, and “Swallow†present a sound that is both talented and diverse, and express their emotional points effectively in both music and words. Indeed, Emilie certainly seems to be somewhat comfortable with what she’s doing, which is good to see.
Unfortunately, comfortable though she may be, sometimes things don’t work as intended. The title track is a primary example of this: the fuzzy vocal filter on the verses combined with the screechy screaming of the chorus end up creating a song that clearly expresses what it was going for while simultaneously failing to achieve it. In several songs, Emilie chooses to make odd screaming/growling vocals instead of simply singing, which would be okay if she were any good at them. Sadly, she quite frankly sucks out loud at it, which makes tracks like the title track and “I Want My Innocence Back†less than stellar as a result. The culmination of this is “Liarâ€, which combines forty-five seconds of growling repetition with a repetitive chorus.
But, in its own way, the occasionally failed experimentalism is part of the charm here. Even in the failed tracks, one gets an idea of what Emilie was attempting to convey, even if the end result doesn’t work as expected. The theme is retained successfully throughout, and as a two-disc set, it’s packed to the gills with quality music (and videos). And anyone who can perform “Thank God I’m Prettyâ€, a song devoted to thanking the good lord for all of the free perks attractiveness brings, without a trace of irony deserves some praise. Opheliac ends up a surprisingly convincing, overall pleasing effort that, even with its flaws, works more often than not, for the right reasons.
