How to measure the strength of materials, whether metal, construction, or any other, is well known. There are various instruments for this purpose, which we control and use, and surely, someday, we'll be sending out our avatars, not wanting to get our hands dirty with such mundane matters. And they will address such trivial questions. We - read: human beings - will invent and create, though perhaps we'll even delegate this responsibility to some form of artificial intelligence. But what will we become then? Surrounded by our own creations, we won't be able to control them. Being in the world, we'll be outside of it, but what about something as personal as our thoughts, our dreams, our feelings...? Will we become prisoners in the edifice of our own consciousness? And this is just the beginning of the questions Cellar Noise raises on their latest album (released after a seven-year hiatus), "Panic Loves Telling Lies." Cellar Noise's third album focuses on the experience of being trapped in one's own mind, in the captivity of rigid mental constructs shaped by fear and self-deception. On defense mechanisms created as safety nets and survival tools, simultaneously reassuring and deceptive. On the fact of change brought about by the moment when this previously resilient balance slowly weakens, and panic grows, as beneath the surface, a subtle possibility of freedom emerges in the form of breaking free from the cage of the self and reclaiming one's true self, offering a moment of respite to the exhausted and overwhelmed mind. This time, it's a bit darker, a bit heavier, yet the compositions are still melodic, song-like, and catchy. Beginning with their 2017 debut ("Alight") and continuing on their 2019 second album ("Nautilius"), the band has been steadily moving towards musical condensation, condensing their musical visions into relatively short and meticulously considered compositions, while increasingly exploring the realms of prog metal and its associated arrangement.
If you want to get a brief idea of what Cellar Noise anno domini 2026 is like, I suggest starting with the longest track on the album – track number 3, "The Case of the Silent Queen." For eleven and a half minutes, you'll have the opportunity to hear how the band handles musical material and entices the listener with a range of skillfully blended arrangement threads. Beginning with seemingly simple guitar riffs and a ballad-like vocal line, the band moves into an increasingly organized and structured arrangement, incorporating orchestrations and flowing streams of synthesizer passages. And when, in the fifth minute, we hear the sounds of a "bare" piano with a delicate synth backdrop, we sense that everything is about to change. The delicacy and flowing orchestration will vanish, and the grayness, power, and strength of a rock riff will soon emerge. And so it is, though this path begins with a subtle electronic intro, thickening the overall tone of the composition. The eighth minute marks the apogee of this track, a break from the pleasant and serene sounds by leaping into the abyss of metal lava, deftly interrupted by electronic interludes that allow for moments of respite. The song's ending bursts with power and epic pathos, distancing itself from the delicate opening section and ending this madly fractured piece on a powerful note. This is - though not entirely, of course - the new face of the band. Perhaps a bit mad, but appropriate to the stories told, where the "I" is a prisoner of the same "I" - does it sound incomprehensible, ambiguous, and unsettling? Perhaps that's precisely the narrative intent of this release.
If you decide to continue the journey presented in "The Case of Silent Queen," I recommend a musical leap to the final track, the title track, "Panic Loves Telling Lies." With sharp sounds, it explores the problem of such a "real" existence. An existence saturated with real life, real emotions, and real everyday life with its toil, hardships, joys, and troubles. And if the previous track was some form of "rhythmically broken" suite, this one is a smooth prog-metal composition that practically screams out the next lyrical phrase with the power of all the instruments.
Do you want to continue in the same direction? In that case, you have to jump to track number two - "Please Be Gentle," which supposedly sounds prog-metal, but a careful listener will surely detect the huge role of so-called electronics. The powerful, almost djent-like playing harmonizes with the electronic-synth backdrop. The two elements fuse, irritating and unsettling, but doesn't this power somehow contradict the title, which calls for gentleness? See for yourself, though also consider whether this couldn't be a stronger track from the band that just disbanded… Riverside.
Electronics appear in the first track, "Wasted Potential." I wouldn't say this track is wasted potential (see title – RP). It's a very inviting introduction that, like the entire album, combines many different styles with an emphasis on prog-metal. And if you don't like being thrown into the deep end by starting with the longest track, this one also shows that the band, after a seven-year hiatus, isn't the same band it once was.
And it's probably high time for something for fans of a more mellow sound. This release contains just that. Three tracks, the first of which, fit for the song of the summer, showcase the band's old, traditional side. "We Need To Talk" simply flows in a carefree stream of sound, and the next two are no less impressive. Despite the themes they tackle, "Caged" and "The Day We Never Met" do so in a highly melodic manner, and under a carefree guise, they continue to describe the impossibility and fear of breaking beyond the boundaries we set for ourselves and treat as impassable.
Taking the easy route, one could say that the band has matured, grown more mature, and views the world around them differently, which is reflected both in the stronger sounds and the subject matter of this release. More precisely, one could say that the inability to transcend our limitations somehow imposes stronger arrangements, the need for screaming and jarring arrangements. It's good that a new album from the Milanese band has appeared. Seven years of hiatus, a new face, but the same high standard.
Please also take a look at the cover. The artwork was created by English artist Carl Glover, a longtime collaborator with Steven Wilson and numerous other KScope artists.
