Immersion in this cauldron of fire and burnt blood is an arcane route to traverse. It’s the maddening soundscape of a man who knows intuitively that a premature end beckons. His journey to hell: imminent.
Eerily howling winds, rattling rust strewn chains and an ominous kneeling bell segue luridly into ‘Cursed, Scarred And Forever Possessed’, a track blemished by blasphemic wordplay and melodic riffs that sound as if recorded in a woodchipper. Mehimoloth howls and gargles ominous lung regurgitations, vile and rife with foreshadowing and a disgust for ‘god’ and its creations. This Infernal hymn juxtaposes a beautifully arranged dirge-like melodicism with an explosive culmination of slightly off meter blastbeats that teeter on the edge of anxiety. This is ravenous Black Metal, wrapped in barbedwire, razor blades, chainmail and deteriorated leather.
Music made by barbarians who hunt priests in fog enshrouded forests, torches in hand, like rabid wolves on a blood frenzied mission for christian carrion. Take for instance the charnal karma of ‘Sign Of The Zodiak’, an homage to the Zodiac Killer who terrorized California for decades never to be caught. He only left cryptic codes to decipher and a ghastly trail of obliterated skulls in his wake. Here we have traditional Black Metal song structure (similar to mid ‘era Mayhem) that builds in intensity and contains a dismally destitute undertone that really makes you feel uneasy. As it should. The intentions are presented clearly and you can envision the murderer partaking of his lurid hunts and the aftermath of his disgusting tirades. ‘The Truth Is Truth Beyond The God’ is revenge in audio format. An uproarious declaration of desecration. The words ‘I blaspheme your existence, I desecrate your altar, I am the fire on your church, I rise to heaven like old smoke of hate’ are delivered with snotty visceral damnation. Full speed ahead, fire and brimstone hatred, delivered like a disembodied devil worshipper undetected with his arsonist derisions.
This album has a certain aspect of deterioration and decay to it. It smells of finality. It reeks of spoiled meat, sewer water and improperly refrigerated bodies languishing at the city morgue. Last song proper ‘The Demon Of Old’ extols more virtues of the left hand path, blazing with bludgeoning percussive lashes brimming with the arcane fury of a thousand witch drownings as well as riffs so incendiary that they could summon legions of demons. Thus, bringing this remastered opus to its fiery conclusion.
