Genre: Ambient / Folk / Martial

Curiously, Golgatha have chosen a thematic album based upon the life of Lawrence of Arabia, or as they pen, “Reflections on the Myth of Thomas Edward Lawrence” as their latest offering on the French label, Athanor, and despite an initial reluctance to explore the life of this man it soon becomes apparent that a great deal of craft has been laved upon this conceptual piece.

‘Seven Pillars’ is a journey, even the track names evince as much by their use of specific dates coupled with a figurative summation as sub-title, though one that is not from birth but from the moment Lawrence partook in a walking tour of Syria, a journey that would steep him in Arab life as a British archeologist and during the first World War as a British intelligence officer. It is from this point until his death by motorcycle that Golgatha enshrines.

Stylistically the album is an assemblage of photos, a montage of aural snapshots set to capture Lawrence’s life. African percussion purls in the night, cicada’s susurrate, and guttering fire crackles, a hint of the East before meeting half way with church organ and sublimation in wistful ambience, anent impending war with the crack of military snare. Sinuous rhythm and insulated industrial backing intimates a saraband to the clear vocals of Marleni, one side of the coin behind Golgatha. Frosted drones like synthetic wind and haunted clarinet blur to the Arabic monologue by guest vocalist Claudia Jubeh while Tony Wakeford features obverse with British voice in a later track. Charging horses, Arabic cries, military madness and stoicism during the Arab Revolt indulge a menace compounded with blistering and unsettling symphonic score. Crouching folk huddle with lush finger-picked guitar and cello, nestled in a desert low, but as with most of the tracks the cinematic aspects allows no sustainment just as life does not. Neoclassicism, dark ambience, martial bombast, folk and symphony surrender unto each other in this opus creasing at times co-dependent at others, just like Lawrence’s own life with the Arab culture he immersed and loved.

So how does one visually present an album dedicated to the life of Lawrence of Arabia without seeming a history lesson or collection of photos? The six panel digipak is stamped with the man’s face himself and from there the interior comprises of hands and digits of a browser perusing photographic legacy of the man, all suitably drained of colour to sepia tone. It is a tasteful aestheticism that could well have been poorly planned, yet the album artwork truly captures the spirit of ‘reflection’ almost as if those hands are the listeners.