The sonic branches the tree of putrefaction this EP endows are something to behold.
Mostly doomy by nature, “Acrid Death Fragrance” makes us visually reckon the Ophelia by painter Sir John Everett Millais: whereas death may be the subject topic, it is not the very end; the surroundings work throughout the process of decay making it feel weepy but organic and very alive, as if the whole album were a rotting and ominous parade. Stylistically it bears a little resemblance to the earliest outputs by At the Gates or Therion: raw but with their own twisted sense for melody. We rot in disease! (azathoth)
