Opening with the nearly self-titled piece “Intoxication” after a short 25-second introduction track, “intoxication” is detrimental to the listener’s well-being. With a rampaging instrumental front from Christian Musich on percussion, there is both Michael Bertoldini and Giacomo Totti on the guitar and bass. Finally, Marco Coslovich rears his face on the vocal forefront and as a lyricist, demands death through the microphone.
Explaining over a crashing wall of noise, “Dear cancer, it’s been a long time since you left me with no words. I missed you every single day…” As the guitars screech like the twisted death throes of an animal’s last seconds, he continues. “It’s been so hard without you, I missed your teeth on my jugular and the sweet kiss of your needle slowly piercing my vein.” While solemn, the grave delivery creates a package that is less approachable as it is a terrifying beast of burden.
Later tracks like “In Limbo” are the knife that stabs through the heart and in the three minutes that the track is present, there isn’t a single moment of stagnant movement. The continuous punches and kicks coming from The Secret are a driving force to push Coslovich’s lyrics as a pilot to the onslaught. He describes, “Breathless I’m living, close your eyes and I’ll become your savior, your friend, your lover, your home.” As one of the more uplifting stances of the vocal display, “In Limbo” suddenly turns to blackened waters as he illustrates, “I’m fed by my demons and my hate. I still don’t know what I’ll become, I still don’t know if you will come.”
The feeling of lonesomeness is accompanied oftentimes by somber instrumentation, but here with The Secret, it is the exact opposite. Much of Disintoxication is spent with a metaphorical sonic noose that strangles the opponent and lets little light in. When the windows do finally crack to reveal some sense of reprieve, the punishment is almost as bad as the salvation.
In the final moments spent with The Secret, the Italy-based band is a working orchestra of death that surrounds the listener in a cloud of misjudgment. The strong faced and willed command of sound is enough to break concrete and shatter backbones like twigs in the mud.