Oh no wonder the drowned, oh no wonder the crumbles. But this group has the aggression of grind and so reminds me of Keitzer. A crack in the sky. I saw the half visible moving into my body it's haunting presences Fake it in my limbs and livers, springs and winters, autumns and summers alike. Oh it's present, oh it's here, But have no fear Oh you know it's constructed, though it's always been there Atypical energies Friends stealing my focuses, foes breaking my bones All locked me in a tree of thoughts with labyrinth roots The unknown known, this unknown knows, The unknown knows. It has touches of thrash like Krisiun and some Slayerish solos.
The gateway to the antisphere. The Aeon of Sulphur awaits. An album not for the weak! The winds of spring bring the stench of Sulphur. . So, it seems it knows everything - how could it be? Favorite track: In Darkness Brotherhood.
. See the gateways It's here Breaks open with struggles Destruction, reconstruction, one day the cements will hold Im better drowned and fighting Rafts for hopeless hopes. This makes Blood of Serpents better than almost all other black metal, at least for my tastes. Wow, this is really brutal Swedish black metal: Blasting, fast and heavy. What gave it that power? You'll scream too We will all join this choir of ghosts This beautiful tremendous ancestral force Perpetually screaming at kyriarchies As future and past ancestors You'll scream too.
It is black metal, which is not a genre that appeals to me. Favorite track: As The Temple Burns. Now it's time for the ancient ones to rise once more from the restless diluvial depths of timeless death. No more Words left and just speechless. The album was produced by Simon Werner who was already responsible for the sound of the previous recordings of the band.
Looking around - devouring emptiness Voids tamed by plastic goals, systemic torrents of piss on our dreams Absurd, those burdens I dont want to bear Riposte materialistical and mystical If this feels real and sound, this is real and sound Matter of perception, this is real and sound Longtime buried, my inner worlds without ends Real enough, as long as I feed them Reconstruct through invisible, through immanence Where seems there's none, I'll grow as many senses as I can Swarms of wounders? What gave me those answers? A collection of songs inhabited by european witchcraft, atypical mental states, the feeling of loss, the forest, the will to reclaim long-gone connexions and power from within, and the urge to properly name and subsequently confront power-overs. . . . . .
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