In a music landscape dominated by AI-generated beats and TikTok trends, EffaTha & The Projekt KaTholiban's latest opus "Angel of God Descending" arrives like a bolt of lightning in a clear sky. Released in early 2025, this genre-bending masterpiece marks a stunning evolution for Croatian visionary Marin Katava and his collective of musical mystics.
If you're wondering what "KaTholiban" means - and trust me, you're not alone - it's a characteristic bit of wordplay from Katava, blending "Catholic" with "Taliban" in a provocative nod to religious extremism. But don't let the name fool you. This isn't some ham-fisted attempt at controversy; it's a deeply nuanced exploration of faith, doubt, and the spaces in between.
The album opens with the title track, a sprawling 12-minute epic that feels like Godspeed You! Black Emperor got locked in a monastery with Gregorian monks. Katava's signature guitar work - all shimmer and shadow - weaves through ancient Croatian church melodies while a wall of electronics pulses underneath like a digital heartbeat. It's the kind of song that makes you believe in something bigger than yourself, even if you're not quite sure what that something is.
The Projekt KaTholiban has always been more of a rotating artistic commune than a traditional band, and this latest incarnation features some of Eastern Europe's most innovative musicians. There's Ana Kovač on modular synthesizers, pulling sounds from machines that look like they belong in a Soviet space program, and Petar Nikolić, whose percussion work ranges from delicate brush strokes to thunderous apocalyptic beats.
But at the center of it all is Katava, a former theology student turned experimental musician who's been pushing boundaries since he first emerged from Zagreb's underground scene in the late 2010s. "I wanted to create something that captures the feeling of divine intervention in the modern world," he explains via video call from his studio, a converted 16th-century chapel in the Croatian countryside. "Not in a literal sense, but in those moments when reality seems to crack open and show you something else."
The lyrics, when they appear, are a mix of Croatian, Latin, and English, often delivered in a style that feels more like speaking in tongues than traditional singing. On "Digital Stigmata," Katava chants ancient prayers over glitch-heavy beats while a children's choir sings fragments of spam emails. It shouldn't work, but somehow it does, creating something both profoundly unsettling and weirdly beautiful.
The album's centerpiece, "Cyber Rosary," is where everything comes together. Starting with what sounds like a traditional Croatian folk melody, it gradually morphs into a pulsing electronic odyssey, complete with samples from Vatican Radio broadcasts and snippets of old Yugoslav propaganda films. It's the kind of track that makes you wish John Peel was still around to play it in its entirety on late-night radio.
What's most impressive about "Angel of God Descending" is how it manages to be both experimental and accessible. Yes, there are 15-minute drone pieces and songs built entirely from processed church bells, but there are also moments of pure, transcendent beauty that could move even the most hardened cynic. The closing track, "Mother Digital," sounds like what might happen if Brian Eno produced a mass for the digital age.
This is music that demands attention - not in a showy, look-at-me way, but in the way that great art always does. It's not background music for your next house party (unless you throw very weird house parties), but rather a fully realized artistic statement about faith, technology, and human connection in an increasingly disconnected world.
For Katava and his collaborators, "Angel of God Descending" represents both a culmination and a new beginning. It's the work of artists operating at the peak of their powers while still pushing forward into uncharted territory. In an era where so much music feels algorithmic and safe, EffaTha & The Projekt KaTholiban have created something genuinely original and deeply human.
Whether you're a long-time fan of experimental music or just someone looking for something different, "Angel of God Descending" offers a unique and rewarding experience. It's an album that reminds us why we fell in love with music in the first place - its ability to transport us, challenge us, and maybe even change us a little bit.
And in 2025, that feels like something close to a miracle.