The first sound that emerges from Sophya's debut album is Sonja Rozenblum's voice. From this simple, haunting beginning, you are drawn into a captivating old-world atmosphere. Although the trio hails from Israel, they feel more European and sound like the dark tides which flow under Enya's sunnier songs. Rozenblum's vocals occupy a central position on The Age of Sophya, providing inviting and tantalizing textures with a touch of hidden evil. The result is something which mirrors the Dracula that Bram Stoker intended –- alluring, disturbing and so complete that it feels like destiny. On the opening track, "Pale Blue Moon", Rozenblum's soft, echoing vocals are simply spine-tingling, giving off the same charge that's carried by Sinead O'Connor's best work. Much like Jane Jensen's outstanding work with Oxygiene 23, Rozenblum sings in a languid, opiate style that is simply enchanting.

Vocals alone, however, are not enough to make a solid album. Thankfully, Rozenblum, who doubles as the synthesizer player, has teamed with Shai Ledder (bass guitar) and Idan Arutchi (everything else). Whereas fellow darkwave act Switchblade Symphony uses touches of trip-hop and industrial to expand their sound, Sophya prefers to mine older music. The droning synthesizers, subdued piano lines and insistent bass create a thick, enveloping sound. Underneath the melodic sea of songs like "Sunshine" lie drum loops which create the same hypnotic thread that winds through the Cure's Head on the Door. This serves to draw the listener into ever-deeper circles, as if falling in slow motion.

Elsewhere, the band glides through the shadowy dance tracks explored by label-mates Clan of Xymox. Of these, the outstanding track is humbly entitled "Art", and begins with barely audible Gregorian chants and a stuttering drum before Rozenblum's vocals enter, dancing lightly atop a seething string section. Although it is accurate to describe this album as "goth" or "velvety", this does not do Sophya justice; The Age of Sophya is much deeper than these trite terms. This disc is the sonic equivalent of an ancient cathedral: undeniably beautiful, but with an undefinable menace lurking beneath its surface.