The overwhelming urge to seek salvation through the bottom of a bottle or be it between the wrist and razor is a feeling that can grip the soul so tightly that it wishes to extinguish the flame that danced to joy’s melodies, for the essence that was once ethereal slowly becomes blackened as it surrenders itself onto the void, the very essence that teems at the surface and wishes to escape the veins. But what if one could harness such energy, instead of becoming a slave onto these emotions, you welcome them, and from its tongue, you taste the attrament as you paint with its venom, a very hymn to tyranny, for you now, longer shed a tear to pain’s melody, rather you relish its company as you lick the ichor which pulsates from the stigmata in ecstasy.
A dominant force prevails upon the Black Metal release, Canticles of the Sepulchral Deity by Akasha, for within the fibers of these obsidian notes, there lies a certain strength to its magick, for it is like pressing your lips to the offering chalice, inhaling the aroma as the liquid intoxicates the soul, for now what was once frail and decadent will be robust and nefarious. The sounds that permeate through the album carries upon its back an aggression that gives the illusion as though it was bred from the womb of discontent, a womb barren of light.
In other words the very frenetic approach to the strings, for songs such as “She Who Runs with Wolves” and “Vibratory Waves Collapsed” never feels as a façade, instead it acts as a conduit, transforming these arcane energies into the sounds heard on the release. However, as absurd as these words may sound, the merit of the album, comes naught from the instrument’s language, rather it is its motion, the very flow that it undergoes, coupled with the vocals that gives the illusion as though the tongue spews forth thorns, the shape in which both vocals and instrument take at times feels constricting, but not in a negative light, rather the atmosphere that it evokes breathes a lucifugous ambience in its expulsion.
Pleasure and Pain becomes the zenith for this release, for the orphic motions that render themselves to these melodies inflict the proverbial scars to open forth leaking wounds, but it is the catharsis that emerges from this flow which should be savored, for the juxtaposition between these spirits, the fornication of their energies for which coalesces with the mind to infucate one’s soul in different shades of black.