REVIEW: LABŸRINTH – Timeless Crime

 

LABŸRINTH – Timeless Crime (1999)

Metal Blade Records

Labÿrinth’s Timeless Crime is a compact, high-impact EP that distills the Italian outfit’s prog-power ambition into a tight, 22-minute statement. Released in 1999 via Metal Blade Records as the follow-up to the well-received Return to Heaven Denied, the record functions both as a bridge between albums and as a self-contained showcase of the band’s melodic instincts, technical flair, and narrative leanings.

Visually, the release leans hard into a Venetian gothic aesthetic that primes the listener for a story-driven experience. The front cover centers a masked, red-glowing figure crowned with a labyrinth-patterned headdress and gripping an ornate dagger, with a faint skull visible in the chest area. Behind this ominous presence, canals and period architecture reminiscent of St. Mark’s Basilica unfold, while a woman leans over a balcony railing to the right, adding a layer of intrigue and period drama. The back cover mirrors this mood with the intricate façade and domes of the Basilica under a dark red, fiery sky, a skeletal figure lurking in the corner, and a clean tracklist in white script. Inside, the band photo reinforces the theatrical tone: six members posed against a blue gradient sky, dressed in dark gothic coats, Victorian frilled shirts, and dark trousers—an image that feels like a cast photo for a metal opera set in a haunted Venice.

Musically, Timeless Crime sits at the intersection of European power metal, progressive structures, and neo-classical fusion. The band’s sound here recalls the intricate arrangements of Fates Warning and Shadow Gallery, the early complexity of Dream Theater, and the melodic directness of Iced Earth, all filtered through a distinctly European sensibility. There is also a strong German metal current running through the riffs and pacing, with a Helloween-like drive that keeps the songs immediate and hook-laden even when the structures stretch beyond standard verse-chorus forms. Neo-classical elements are obvious in the guitar work and keyboard interplay, lending a late-’80s/early-’90s fusion sheen without overwhelming the songs’ melodic core. Vocally, the singer’s bright, AOR-tinged tone—often compared to Joe Lynn Turner in his Yngwie Malmsteen era—sits comfortably atop the busy arrangements, giving the choruses an anthemic lift.

The EP’s five tracks are concise but carefully developed. “Save Me” opens with a confident, cinematic charge, establishing the record’s blend of technical riffing and soaring melody. “Out of Memory” and “In the Shade” continue this trajectory, balancing progressive turns with accessible hooks and dynamic shifts that prevent the material from feeling routine. The centerpiece, however, is the closing suite “Falling Rain / Die for My Sins,” where Labÿrinth fully commits to drama and atmosphere. Multiple reviewers have singled out “Falling Rain” as the EP’s crown jewel—some even claiming it is worth the price alone and among the band’s best work—and it is easy to hear why: the song builds with purpose, layers its motifs effectively, and delivers an emotional payoff that lingers after the final chord.

The “Die for My Sins” segment is particularly interesting as a reimagining of Sanctuary’s classic. Labÿrinth stay close to the original’s spirit but use keyboards to color the arrangement, imprinting their own identity on the cover. This choice transforms a familiar piece into something that feels integrated into the EP’s world rather than tacked on as a bonus track, and it highlights the band’s skill at arranging and texturing without losing the song’s core impact.

Though brief, Timeless Crime is often read as concept-linked, with lyrics that connect across songs. One detailed interpretation outlines a narrative set around Louis XIV, Versailles, and a portrait of a Venetian ruler’s daughter named Kathryn, framing the EP as a compact historical-fiction drama rather than a random collection of tracks. This reading dovetails neatly with the cover art’s Venetian architecture, masked figure, and gothic styling, inviting the listener into a mini-opera of love, power, and intrigue.

In the end, Timeless Crime succeeds because it marries ambition with focus. It is short enough to demand repeat listens, yet dense enough to reward them, offering a clear snapshot of Labÿrinth’s strengths: melodic power metal with progressive bones, neo-classical flash, and a theatrical sensibility that feels cohesive from artwork to arrangement. For anyone exploring the band’s discography, this EP is not just a stopgap between albums but a concentrated dose of what makes Labÿrinth compelling in the first place.

Nick Parastatidis