As ever so often in their long and storied career, CLAN OF XYMOX pick just the perfect moment in time for their eagerly awaited return. "Exodus", their impeccable 18th studio album, showcases the strengths and virtues of one of the leading and most influential groups the worlds of dark wave and gothic have ever seen.

Three years after their eerily echoing manifesto "Limbo", an account of the pandemic and its beastly consequences, wave wizard Ronny Moorings returns to the scene of the crime. With him he carries a black bouquet of mournful dirges for a sick new world, elegies for a new status quo we are all forced to live with. 40 years after their inception, CLAN OF XYMOX remain the beacon of tragic elegance and morbid tristesse.

They are the undoubted, unchallenged spearheads of a scene that has suddenly been brought to the attention of a much younger generation, seeking to express their angst and pain through music this legendary band has been faithfully delivering these past decades. "Exodus" speaks of this exceptional status and leads the field in prosaic sorrow with ten new anthems of exquisite darkness. The apparatus Ronny Moorings uses may still be the same; the result is yet another masterpiece full of longing melodies, sulking vocals from deep within the batcave, reverberating guitars and hypnotic drums to banish the phantoms in all of us. We're dancing right into the abyss, this album tells us. But at least we're dancing. When there is nowhere left to turn to, when all hope seems lost and the world is kicking us down with yet another evil tiding of biblical proportions, sometimes all that's left is to succumb to the music. To this darkly spellbinding exodus towards catharsis. Maybe that's why "Exodus" holds some of the most drab and abject tunes Ronny Moorings has written in many years. Maybe that's why this record is en par with the best releases of THE CURE. Because the times we live in forced him to. Because there simply is no other way that to bleed all his sorrow, anger and weltschmerz into his mournful music. Not because the world will be a better one after that. But because it's the only way for him to cope with the brutal insanity we call everyday life.

"Exodus" is not an album for the dreamers. It's no nightmare either, despite the shadows brooding beneath the surface. It's a gateway for all those who acknowledge the darkness of our days and yet refuse to give up. Let's sing these nocturnal lullabies together and dance while we still have a floor to do so. Because it's all we can do, anyway.