Peter Bjärgö ‎– The Architecture Of Melancholy

Cyclic Law ‎– 41st Cycle
CD, Album

Companies, etc.



Written, recorded/performed, mixed and mastered between spring and autumn of 2011.
Edition of 700 copies.
Comes in a 8-panel digipak.

℗ © Cyclic Law 2011

Barcode and Other Identifiers

  • Barcode (Sticker on the plastic shrink wrap): 0620953444722
  • Matrix / Runout: Peter Bjargo "The Architecture Of Melancholy" (41st Cycle) D100830 9C
  • Mastering SID Code: IFPI LT027
  • Mould SID Code (Mirrored): IFPI TAZ01



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June 30, 2012
My, this is a record full of sunshine. The follow up to his 2009 album 'A Wave of Bitterness', Arcana's Peter Bjargo has plainly not been having the greatest time in the last couple of years and if this album is any indication of where he's at then perhaps I'll finally get a new Sophia release. Think you're having a crap day? Does fate seem dead set against you, fighting your efforts at every turn? Put on 'The Architecture of Melancholy'. Turn it up, as loud as your ears can handle and hum along to songs like "The Death of Our Sun" which contains splendid statements along the lines of "Soon we will all be forgotten, in the vast ocean of time. Soon our bodies will disintegrate into the black soil". Still think whatever you're going through is insurmountable? Thought not.

Whenever Bjargo ventures out on his own, the results are tantamount to a cataclysm of heartbreak and this record is no exception. Clearly, these songs were written during the same period as Arcana's new material but they could not be more different. Do not look for bombast or sweet, angelic voices. Cast your eyes down and know that you're never going to amount to anything, soak in the greys and bask in that morose moment of hitting rock bottom. If you're sensitive to emotionally damaged offerings, you would be advised to pass on these songs because they are comprised of loss, grief, misery and pain. Other titles include the scintillating "Apathy" which has all the dourness you could ask for seeping out of it's steely acoustic spine and then there's the title track, which contains vocals from a rather special guest. She still sounds incredible when paired with his music and I hope this is not just a one-off.

The lack of fanfare about 'The Architecture of Melancholy' is to be expected as I don't foresee a lot of fans being able to get into this maudlin study of despair. The most hopeful track on here is entitled "The Hidden Compass" and even it repeatedly alludes to the dark beauty inside all of us; perhaps it's a spiral into the circles of Hell this album sends us on but what an enchanting view we're given along the way. If this is the ride we're all eventually going to take then the soundtrack is incredible, you'll find me sitting right up front with a giddy smile and my fare happily paid.

There is nothing to look forward to in this world, no one matters and everything is shit. If it allows him to work through his disillusionment with humanity to tap such a nihilistic vein then so be it, I am more than willing to listen. It's all too easy to get distracted from one's wounds when everyone advises you to just gloss over it and patch the cracks instead of dealing with subjects and feelings you'd rather ignore. To look squarely in the face of what antagonizes you and then overcome it is a rare trait. 'The Architecture of Melancholy' may at first come across as just bitterly dejected abandonment but listen closer and you'll be stunned at the openly honest insight into what lies behind the eyes of Mr. Bjargo it provides. This is his world put on a plastic disc for us to peruse either sequentially or piece by piece slowly pulling apart the connective tissue as a mortician would whilst performing an autopsy. Either way, this music was made for the darkening of the day before it descends into night and I'm putting out the lights.