Embarrassingly, my next favorite track is a fifty second interlude: the chorus-laden, acoustic-electric arpeggio strains of “Noradrenaline.” Not because everything else sucks, mind you, but merely because Angel actually makes some different, pleasant sounds for about a minute.
While I find ripping opener “Adrenaline” and the subsequent refrain hooks of “G.A.B.A.” easy to follow and enjoyable, the almost ceaseless staccato chug-riffing results in a tendency to lose oneself amidst the songs. Shred often walks a fine line between self-indulgence and memorability. If there’s one thing I’d generally say that Angel gets right, it’s keeping track times down. That seems as pretentious as marketing this as a full-length, frankly, though in the end, it’s probably just as well this is limited to nine relatively brief tracks running bare y half an hour. “Concept” in this case referring to a loose gathering of the names of a bunch of hormones and neuro-transmitters, thrown together in a somewhat disorganized heap with Vivaldi’s musical interpretation of the effects and behavior of each pervading its eponymous song. Synapse is, at least nominally, a “concept” album. Effects are heavily employed and with constancy – a behavior typical for Vivaldi, and sometimes polarizing for instrumental virtuoso fans, myself not generally included. The name of the game here is, pure modern shred.
Synapse is a hard-hitting, predominantly up-tempo piece of work. As such, I reckoned that if the guy was ever going to impress me, this would be his shot. As much a visual showman with his presentation as a fret-scorcher, Vivaldi has certainly built up Synapse to sound like an immensely personal album. Perhaps it’s my general perception of his persona as egregiously narcissistic, or maybe it’s just that his works, while technically impressive, have never struck me as having much “heart” or consistency. Angel Vivaldi and I have had our brushes in the past, but despite his considerable back catalog, I’ve never found myself with the racing heart and flushed cheeks that many other younger instrumental/shred fans seem to exhibit when his name comes up.
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