Maryland Deathfest 13 Part IV: Various Venues, Baltimore Maryland


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Unfortunately, all great things must come to an end, but there was still a solid day of heavy metal left to enjoy! Once again my cohorts and I found solace (and assistance to hangovers for some) in our now traditional diner for breakfast. Having been up late the night before, and an early start over at Edison, we did not get to the lots until right before Goatsnake hit the stage.

Goatsnake, by Hillarie Jason Photography Primordial, by Hillarie Jason Photography

 

Sunday may have been the hottest, temperature wise, of the festival and it hit most of the festival goers early. Next to the far end stage at the Edison Lot was a shaded area with picnic tables, many filled with metal heads with their faces on the table top. I held my head up while enjoying Goatsnake from afar and then got a few songs in from Primordial. Right in the middle of the Irish Black Metal band’s set, I did have to leave for a short while as I had an interview with Amorphis outside of downtown Baltimore. Fast forward a few hours and it finally hit me… I was exhausted, gained quite a nasty cough from one of the thousands in attendance, and was incredibly hungry/borderline dehydrated. Now at this point, feel free to point and laugh at your screens, but I went back to the hotel room, chugged some water, inhaled a fruit cup as well as a small sandwich, then took a power nap. Yes, at the young age of twenty-five, I took a nap on the final day of Maryland Deathfest. However, now energized, I nearly sprinted back to the Edison Lot to catch some sets by Demilich and Neurosis.

Neurosis, by Hillarie Jason Photography Neurosis, by Hillarie Jason Photography Fans at MDF, by Hillarie Jason Photography Amorphis, by Hillarie Jason Photography

 

After coming down off of a journey like performance by Neurosis, I made my way over to the far stage to catch what would be one of the greatest sets all weekend, Amorphis performing Tales from the Thousand Lakes album in its entirety. The piano introduction of the album hit while the crowd went into hysterics as each member made their way to the stage. Track by track they played, right through to the end of the Tales masterpiece of an album. Having caught my second wind thanks to my power nap, I was able to get through these last few Edison Lot bands before the Lot was closed until next year. After a quick rest and a short chat with Dave Edwardson from Neurosis, my roommate and I ventured once more over to Rams Head Live to watch the mysterious, yet terrifying, Portal. I had to pinch myself a few times to comprehend what I was watching as, yes shame on me, I had never heard a single story about this band, all of which were masked and performed with stage names. Playing under dim red lights for the whole set with strange videos playing behind them, the Australian five piece brought the crowd into a trance like state. One of my friends in attendance actually described the experience as uncomfortable, but awesome at the same time. Portal did not show any signs of slowing down as curfew came and went. The house lights came on, the PA was shut off, but they just kept on playing until the final note. Then, just like that, MDF was officially over. We all walked back in disbelief of the live stage show that Portal had to offer, yet also the fact that this crazy pilgrimage had come to an end.

Portal, by Hillarie Jason Photography Portal, by Hillarie Jason Photography

 

The drive home the following day was bittersweet. I was bummed that the festival was over for the next year, but on the other hand I was happy to get home and return to the usual daily life I typically live. Maryland Deathfest was my first show outside of the New England area and it was everything I dreamt of and more. I urge every person who is reading this to find time and money to make this journey, this pilgrimage, to really understand how big of a festival MDF really is. Now the only thing left is to ponder what bands will be signed on for next year.

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WORDS BY TIM LEDIN

PHOTOS BY HILLARIE JASON PHOTOGRAPHY


Shining – IX: Everyone, Everything, Everywhere, Ends


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You can say what you like about Niklas Kvarforth, and many quite justifiably and quite rightly do, and his Shining project, now on their ninth release IX – Everyone, Everything, Everywhere, Ends (Season Of Mist), but he has managed to keep his music from sounding like everyone else, and actually doing something with his darkened black metal act that few others do, creating a sound and atmosphere that doesn’t just ape his predecessor, and that varies from album to album while still being identifiable. The actual success rate in terms of quality of output is a bit more hit and miss (with the common reasoning being that it is the odd numbered albums that are worth bothering with, while the even numbered releases can fail to deliver).

With the intent of Shining to cause discomfort and pain to others, and with IX being described as an album to inspire feelings and reflections of revenge and retribution, the music to hand is surprisingly (disappointingly?) safe; there are certainly no challenging moments that the likes of Deathspell Omega or Blut Aus Nord inspire, or horrific atmospheres akin to a Pyrrhon or Portal in full flow (accepting they are megalodons swimming in a very different pool).

With most of the compositions uncurling to around 7 minutes in length, the blueprint here is one that steps outside traditional Black Metal trappings and away from the cold, depressive harshness of their previous works. Opener ‘Vilja & Dröm’ kicks off with a belligerent chugging groove, and the album flits from modern aggressive Black Metal, like Dimmu Borgir minus the symphonics and theatrics, to cleaner, more Gothic moments as, much like Watain did on The Wild Hunt (Century Media),  IX brings a Fields of the Nephilim swathe to the proceedings and a cowboy Western kiss to ‘Inga Broar Kvar Att Bränna’ in particular.

In terms of where IX sits in the Kvarforth canon, it’s fair to say it doesn’t rival V: Halmstad as the go to and defining release of his career, but is more of a worthwhile investment of your time than the limp Klagospalmer (both Osmose). Much like a lot of the music on display, though, it sits comfortably in the middle. If its intention is to unnerve and distress, the protagonist does much more of that away from the music, than he does with it.

 

6.5/10

Shining on Facebook

 

STEVE TOVEY


Ad Nauseam – Nihil Quam Vacuitas Ordinatum Est


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One of the best things about being an… ahem… “mature” Metal fan is finally being over all that anti-trend nonsense. If you’re still on the more idealistic side of twenty-five you might want to skip to the next paragraph, but the cold fact is that Extreme Metal is as vulnerable to fashion as any other kind of Pop music (it’s okay, they’ve already stopped reading), with the same references cropping up in rotation until the trend moves on.

Adorned with underground-cool pencil cover art, Ad Nauseam’s debut album can be explained entirely in terms of names with a lot of cool weight in Metal right now. Combining the dissonant, abstract thundering of Gorguts, Ulcerate’s near-ambient Death Metal soundscapes, the flailing freak-outs of Deathspell Omega and a touch of Portal’s nightmarish otherworldliness, on paper Nihil Quam Vacuitas Ordinatum Est (Lavadome Productions) reads like an essay on “How To Write A Cool Death Metal Album In 2015”.  It is also a perfect demonstration of why none of that stuff matters and Metal fans should finally stop caring about whether something is trendy or not, because it is not only a genuinely excellent album, but a truly distinctive one.

There is a genuine sense of both depth and individual voice on the album which raises it above the vast majority of its peers. Refusing to restrict themselves to a single territory, Ad Nauseam are equally comfortable with savage violence, abstract experimentation and doom-laden dissonance, yet never sound as though they’ve lost a sense of what they’re doing.  Yes, it’s possible to identify the bits that sound like Gorguts or DSO, but as a whole they mesh together into something entirely itself.

Ad Nauseam have come out of nowhere with some of the most over-used references in modern underground Metal, and used them to assemble what will almost certainly be one of the best Death Metal albums of the year. If you didn’t think there was any space left in your collection for another album that sounds like this, you were objectively wrong. Fill that space immediately.

 

9.0/10

Ad Nauseam on Facebook

 

RICHIE HR


Primitive Man – Home Is Where The Hatred Is


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Abstract is the new brutal. The principal focus of Extreme Metal has always been to make music that sounds as violent or destructive as possible, but over the last couple of years a growing number of bands in different sub-genres have embraced a more subtle approach. Whether it’s Gnaw Their Tongues and their followers blending Black Metal with Noise elements, Blut Aus Nord embracing dissonance or Portal deconstructing familiar Death Metal into something totally other, it’s becoming more common to encounter Extreme Metal which doesn’t so much punch your face as make you doubt its existence.

Primitive Man are one of a current circle of bands – Sea Bastard, Keeper and Indian among their peers – engaged in stripping so-called “Sludge”, that ugly child of Punk and Black Sabbath, of its Blues influences and sense of groove and focussing entirely on its capacity for bleakness and discomfort, and are arguably the leaders in their circle when it comes to abstraction. Home Is Where The Hatred Is (Relapse) continues from their independent debut album Scorn with thirty minutes of abstract rhythms, broken chords and growled vocals that steadfastly refuse to describe anything as uplifting or recognisable as a riff.  It’s a thick, genuinely unsettling morass of noise and almost ambient amp abuse, and when they do allow themselves a brief moment of Grind-fuelled violence at the start of Downfall it’s almost a relief – though one that’s rapidly overtaken as the song collapses once again into dissonance and atmospherics. There are similarities to Khanate, of course, in their use of dissonance and unorthodox song structures, but as their name would suggest they seem less artful and refined, more… well… primitive.

It is extremely difficult to criticise HIWTHI, not because it’s without flaws, but because any apparent weaknesses (tracks blurring into another; the lack of satisfying climax; the sense of dislocation and frustration that pervades) are so obviously the result of very deliberate choices by the band.  They’re not bugs, to borrow from the clichés of IT, but features. This isn’t the dirty, angry Rock ‘n Roll of Eyehategod or Iron Monkey, and it doesn’t seek to press the same buttons – this is genuinely ugly, unsatisfying, dissonant music from a band who aren’t interested in catharsis or making you rock out.

 

8.0/10

Primitive Man on Facebook

 

RICHIE HR


Black Veil Brides – Black Veil Brides IV


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Guns N’Roses, Aerosmith, Whitesnake, Def Leppard, Iron Maiden, ‘Nothing Else Matters’, Skid Row, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Bon Jovi, Billy Idol, Faith No More, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Nine Inch Nails, Bowling For Soup, Korn, Slipknot… who was it for you? Who was your Gateway band? Maybe the list I’ve given shows my age a bit, but it makes a point. For people to get to their Indian’s and  Portal’s or even their Behemoth’s and Winterfylleth there needs to be something to guide them on their way and introduce them to the fold.

And just because we’ve (and I don’t mean Ghost Cult, per se) have decided there’s a “cool” line in the sand and the “mainstream” is above that line and therefore not worthy, or kvlt or true enough, doesn’t mean that it corresponds that there isn’t quality, valid, exciting and interesting music going on in the more commercial arena of our rock and metal world.

It also doesn’t mean there always is…

Perhaps Black Veil Brides IV (Lava/Universal Republic) is the wrong album to be having that discussion on, and perhaps that discussion should take place around Avenged Sevenfold, or more pertinently Mastodon, or Slipknot. Though what about non-Killswitch Engage “metalcore” and bands with slopey fringes and bits of emo? See, it’s OK to talk Mastodon, they were underground who got popular, and it’s OK to talk Slipknot, they’re allowed, but not Trivium. “We” have decided they’re not “real”. And we definitely can’t talk Black Veil Brides. They’re girlfriend metal. All image. Style over substance. All their fans are teenagers… I have a one word answer to that. Kiss. OK, all their fans may no longer be teenagers, but they were forty years ago. The biggest whores to image and commerciality are classic, timeless legends. Also, the more observant of you will have noticed the Motley Crue-dipped-in-tar look has quietly been banished to the back of the BVB wardrobe.

OK, context set, bullshit blustered, let’s address the album at hand. If you’ve consciously avoided Black Veil Brides, or never strayed onto rock radio or video stations, their sound is well established by now and there are no surprises in that respect. There are smatterings of more recent Disturbed and a load of metalcore-lite (but with the thrashy bits removed), all combined with Andy Biersack’s clean baritone that sounds slightly out of place, and, well, a little short of the presence you’d expect from a voice fronting one of rock’s big bands. He’s not even a David Draiman let alone an Axl Rose.

Where IV also falls down is that it doesn’t have the stand out track, the big anthem, that its predecessors had, as even best of the bunch, ‘Drag Me To The Grave’ falls short compared to the not-as-good-as-the-Poison­-song-of-the-same-name ‘Fallen Angels’, or their best song, and genuine quality rock anthem ‘In The End’. Without that big single to hang the album on, we’re left with a bunch of samey songs that are perfectly decent in their own right, but don’t make you raise your fist and yell…

While it is worth noting that BVB may be a gateway band for the many and the millions, it’s also worth noting that this is not the album to pitch this particular argument on. When considering the context of “mainstream” rock/metal albums, this doesn’t have the songs of a Ten Thousand Fists (Disturbed – Reprise), the swagger of a Hail To The King (Avenged Sevenfold – Warners), the intelligence of a Once More ‘round The Sun (Mastodon – Reprise) or the depth and genius of The Black Parade (My Chemical Romance – Reprise). It’ll do well for them, of that I’m sure, but in the annals of time it won’t even be held up as the first, second or even third best, Black Veil Brides album to date, let alone achieve any status higher than that.

 

6.0/10

Black Veil Brides on Facebook

 

STEVE TOVEY

 

 


AEvangelist – Writhes In The Murk


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All reviewers know, in their secret hearts, that grading albums is an arbitrary process, and that the wider the scale the more subjective the judgement will be. Fans will argue and bicker over whether a given album is a 7.5 or an 8, somehow not realising that these are simply forced formalisations of a personal judgement, a qualitative emotional response squeezed into a quantitative shape. Every so often, however, an album comes along that by its sheer enormity, its absolute refusal to be pinned down so crudely, forces anyone hearing it to confront the essential meaninglessness of their numbers.

AEvangelist have only been around since 2011, and have already released three full-length albums, two EPs and a split, during which they have developed their sinister Death Metal into a genuinely unique style.  The blending of Extreme Metal with Dark Ambient/Electronic Noise is nothing new – indeed, my role at Ghost Cult seems to be chasing the multiple products of this relationship and hitting them with a big stick – but bands have disagreed over how to approach it: Portal borrow the composition and layering approach of Noise artists to turn their Death Metal into a dense, chaotic swamp, whereas Grave Upheaval strip their Metal down to its barest skeleton, casting aside all ostentation until nothing is left but fetid Dark Ambient drones. AEvangelist’s approach – more maximalist, and initially quite overwhelming – is to simply PLAY EVERYTHING AT ONCE. At times it seems like there are two AEvangelists – the claustrophobic, shrieking Ambient Noise artist and the cavernous, meandering Death Metal band – and neither is prepared to give the other a moment to themselves, both bands playing their music on top of, alongside and writhing between the notes of the other.

Each subsequent album has taken this approach a little far, and Writhes In The Murk (Debemur Morti) reveals it in its most excessive, most intoxicating, most entirely singular form yet, and on the first few listens it can almost impossible to pick anything out at all.  Riffs are buried in noise and static, atmospheric passages are interrupted by monotonous, rumbling-drainpipe vocals, the whole thing could easily be dismissed as an exercise in extremity for its own sake, an example of why musicians set themselves boundaries to work in – many people will doubtless stop listening with that impression in mind, and it’s hard to say that they’re wrong to do so. Persevere, though (and it IS perseverance – this album will make you work for everything it has to give) and a structure starts to emerge from the mire, an alien, shifting but nevertheless consistent logic that reveals Writhes In The Murk as a true album rather than a collection of disparate noises. The key to unlocking its shape lies in the pairing of ambient instrumental ‘Disquiet’ and the heaving, chaotic shambles that is ‘Aelixir’ – all saxophones and flailing, smoky tendrils of broken Jazz – at the centre, with a trio of more conventional (by this band’s standards) Death Metal songs at either side.

Grading music in numbers is, as explained already, a useful lie – painting the veneer of objectivity onto a subjective process that works right up until someone like AEvangelist comes along with an album so utterly, undeniably itself that only the very bottom or the very top of the marking scale could possibly make any sense at all. Writhes In The Murk is not the perfect album (imagining for a moment that such a thing could ever exist), and a lot of people are going to hate it for perfectly valid reasons. However, if you’re able to get past the initial disorientation and look inside, you’ll find an album that follows its own perverse ambition flawlessly, with not a shred of compromise, dilution or failure.

 

10.0/10

AEvangelist on Facebook

 

RICHIE HR


Teitanblood – Death


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It may not always seem the most sophisticated or progressive of genres, but horrible old Death Metal has been undergoing something of a late renaissance of late. With bands like Portal, Ulcerate and Gorguts (finally no longer alone in a field they’ve ploughed since the mid 90’s) bending the genre into new shapes while old heroes like Autopsy remind us of the strengths of playing it straight. Growling over a blast-beat hasn’t been this exciting in years.

 

Teitanblood’s latest contribution to this is more subtle and developed than it may initially seem, and opens up over the course of several listens into an album of surprising depth. Mashing old-school Death Metal with touches of Crust, Grind and Black Metal they create a noxious mess that lurches from Blasphemy-style chaos to blackened sludge, referencing classic Carcass and the occasional d-beat on the way.

 

The most glaring issue with Death (Norma Evangelium Diaboli) – initially a big one – is the sheer length. Weighing in at over 60 minutes, with songs averaging around 10minutes, this seems far too overblown for such an unambitious, chaotic sound. Persevere, though, and it starts to become clear that Teitanblood have got more going on than they initially seem to. Firstly, their sense of dynamics; songs catapult explosively through genuinely well-crafted structures, riffs and beats shifting effortlessly into shapes that prevent them from getting mired in the repetition that one might expect. Secondly, there is their use of ambient noises and samples in the background of many songs, comparable to that of AEvangelist, but deployed with a much lighter hand. Many listeners may not even hear them at first, but they add a depth and atmosphere to Teitanblood’s dense, organic music that genuinely helps the album justify its running time.

 

Not instantly the easiest of listens, then, and will likely be dismissed by many as too long or too chaotic, but an album of surprising depth which fans of the noisier end of Death Metal should find rewards repeated listens.

 

8.0 / 10.0

Teitanblood on Facebook

 

RICHIE H-R

 


Shroud of the Heretic – Revelations in Alchemy


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Portland, Oregon dosen’t seem to garner many headlines referring to a depressing, culturally-impoverished existence. One of America’s most environmentally-conscious places, it’s also largely liberal and not particularly a hotbed of unemployment. So quite why this ‘Beervana’ appears to be giving rise to some of the most disturbing and affecting sounds emanating from the New Country in recent years is something of a mystery.

Leaning to the chaotic death end of the market, this debut album from new sons Shroud of the Heretic gives all of what it says on the tin. Abject horror blends with brooding portent, Thom Gunn‘s vocal a wheezy scour buried low in the mix. There’s much of the blackened death of city brethren Aevangelist here, the frantic lead wailings and frosted riffs clashing with violent background ambience, the howlings of souls in limbo evocative of a Bosch masterpiece. Particularly with opener ‘The Arrival’ however, this is tempered by slower passages evoking the desolation of impending doom, leaving a skewed amalgam of tortured darkness. ‘Chaotic Astral Ascension’ reflects its title: a slamming mess of discord and malevolence, gradually falling to a sudden funereal sequence depicting the peace of the rise. The blastbeat-dictated lift from the murk of ‘Illuminism’ is a prime example of timing and effect, whilst the spearing riff feeding the gloom of the title track falls to a sudden, wakening bass and this, with Gunn’s initial emanations building to the pummelling drums, is nerve-twitchingly terrifying.

The problem here is the growing familiarity. When the monstrous Portal first sallied forth it was with a cacophony containing such levels of fear as had not previously been encountered, an immediacy which left the listener needing the loo and a cushion to hide behind. Aevangelist exacerbated this horror but that impact is lessening with each new attempt at emulation and, despite Revelations in Alchemy (Blood Harvest) being delightfully terrible throughout, those experienced in the sound will grimace knowingly. The odd time change will satisfy the ‘noise is everything’ merchants but, to create lasting flavour and identity, something more memorable is required. These guys are definitely capable: let’s ‘ave it.

6.5 / 10

Shroud of the Heretic on Facebook

PAUL QUINN


Pyrrhon – The Mother Of Virtues


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For many a year a bands’ “extremity” was defined by how offensive their lyrics were, how unintelligible their vocals were, how fast they could play, and for how long. But, as Tiago Moreira sagely commented in his review of the excellent Artificial Brain album Labyrinth Constellation these are finally different and special days for Death Metal. Death Metal lives in Interesting Times.

With The Mother Of Virtues (Relapse), New York’s Pyrrhon have found a way to meld and then go beyond the warped, technical dissonance of Gorguts, Ulcerate, Portal and Deathspell Omega to create quite possibly the most extreme and impenetrable album to date. By anyone.

Five minutes into the album, and we’ve had a minute and a half Grind/Jazz obliteration at the hands of ‘The Oracle Of Nassau’, which is the last time Pyrrhon pay any attention to “traditional” structure or definable output, and the first three minutes of ‘White Flag’, which starts with an inoffensive bass dally before sweeping off in a riot of aggression and notes from all points of the guitar necks that slows down again to tail into sub-noise via discordant jangles. And that’s just the beginning of an extraordinary album that forces re-evaluation of what can be achieved in the name of extreme music. Boundaries aren’t just pushed, they are non-existent. I don’t like, know, or get jazz, but this is surely what the most fucked-up jazz can only dream of sounding like.

The Mother Of Virtues doesn’t just challenge what is “extreme”, but calls into question whether some of what is produced is actually even music. It certainly shouldn’t be called songs. And is all the better for it.

Completely and utterly impenetrable, and not in the way Krallice or AEvangelist are, and exceptional with it. I don’t “get it”, but I don’t think I’m supposed to. I don’t think the point is to understand what I now imagine the soundtrack of a complete and devastating neural implosion to sound like. I think the point is to be challenged by it.

The technique of all involved is incredible as Pyrrhon deconstruct frictional technical death metal and brokenly put it back together in a consciously unnatural way as only the bass and drums retain any semblance of what we are used to, underpinning and holding everything just about together throughout tracks like the Ved Buens Ende tinged ‘Eternity In A Breath’ as if the rhythm section of a different, more “normal” band, but by the midpoint of ‘Invisible Injury’ both have detached themselves from each other, as the Underworld spills out from all parts of the band into pure extreme free-form.

The Mother Of Virtues will never be an easy listen, will never be comfortable, will always be disorientating and doesn’t so much teeter on the razors edge of insanity and genius as hurl itself from one end of the spectrum to the other and back again. But it will always be an extraordinary album.

 

9.5/10

Pyrrhon on Facebook

STEVE TOVEY

 

 


Impetuous Ritual – Unholy Congregation Of Hypocritical Ambivalence


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Even in underground terms, Ignis Fatuus is hardly a recognisable name, but as drummer for Portal, Grave Upheaval and Impetuous Ritual, the black-hooded Australian is at the cutting edge of Death Metal’s abstract progression into something closer to Noise and Dark Ambient. 2013 was the year when that style – finally picking up the baton of discordance laid down by Gorguts in the late 90’s – exploded, with Portal’s Vexovoid among its most exciting releases.

On first listen, Impetuous Ritual are by far the most “normal” of the Fatuus hat-trick, with recognisable riffs and a surging, chaotic Black/Death Metal approach that owes more than a little to bands like Blasphemy and Diocletian. After Portal’s deceptively eloquent Noise-as-Art abstractions and Grave Upheaval’s transformation of death metal into utterly monolithic, lightless ambient soundscapes, IR’s second album almost seems a let-down – generic noisy Death Metal that we’ve heard before. Perseverance, however, is rewarded, and Impetuous Ritual are revealed not merely as a half-way point between their more obvious siblings, but as a band equally worthy in their own right.

What raises Unholy Congregation… (Profound Lore) beyond the generic clatter-clatter-bang is the structure of the album, which leads the listener from relatively conventional chaotic Death Metal into tracks that combine the abstract, distorted qualities of Fatuus’ other bands with the destructive fury of Antediluvian. The first three tracks rips through a powerful but familiar swamp of riffs and blasts before Despair splits itself into a more atmospheric – even ambient – piece reminiscent of the last Grave Upheaval album, and from there the album opens into something much stranger and more diverse, yet always feels like a consistent, complete album.

People who find this style of cavernous, eldritch Death Metal too chaotic and lacking in melody are still not going to be happy with Unholy Congregation…, but this is a master-class in how to make Death Metal which embraces the more abstract side of the genre without losing sight of its riff-based roots, and prove that Transdimensional Ancient Squid Death Metal isn’t a dead trend yet.

9/10

Impetuous Ritual on Facebook

RICHARD HR