After releasing their self-titled debut album in 2017, we wondered where Arcadea, the progressive synth-metal band formed by Mastodon drummer Brann Dailor and Zruda guitarist Core Atoms, joined here by João Nogueira on synths (replacing Raheem Amlani), would take us next. The Exodus of Gravity provides the answer: five billion years into the future, no less. Arcadea has never been about stagnating or staying in its comfort zone (the proof is that Dailor has started singing, and although co-founded by a guitarist and heavily inspired by 70s progressive rock, Arcadea replaces guitars with synths): the journey promises to be as eventful as it is surprising!
Gravity no longer exists, they tell us. Everything is turned upside down. This feeling is palpable in the energy of Dark Star, an introduction led by pounding drums, where the accumulation of samples halfway through the track creates a chaotic, psychedelic kaleidoscope. Arcadea transports us with its retro-futuristic approach, but doesn't forget to make us want to shake our booties. It's fun and catchy, but also full of unexpected surprises and nuances (Dailor's vocals on the title track) or more in-your-face passages (Lake of Rust and Galactic Lighthouse, with their synthesised riffs, could easily become heavier and more aggressive).
The approach, however, is more immediate than on the previous album. With a resolutely retro attitude, Arcadea rejects overly pessimistic futuristic evocations: their science fiction is colourful and tinged with optimism. The result is a more danceable and crazy album, whose cosmic explorations sometimes go off in all directions (the finale, Planet Pounder, has the feel of a theatrical space trip: you don't know exactly how to dance, but you'll end up in an ecstatic posture, your eyes filled with black holes, contemplating the infinite possibilities of the future). We often savour the cinematic flavour that keeps us on the edge of our seats (Silent Spores and its curtain-fall-like conclusion).
A high-flying album, The Exodus of Gravity also abolishes tonal gravity: we're here to explore the galaxy and have fun. There is a touch of jazz or Magma in these unbridled synths. Dailor's clear and sober vocals are captivating and provide an organic reference point, both guiding and narrating this strange odyssey. Arcadea is a recreational bubble for its creators, who come here to try things they can't touch in their respective projects. We might have preferred them a little darker, but that's because we're grumpy: their futuristic fiesta is a delicious experience, as unsettling as it is enjoyable.
