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Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Blut Aus Nord - 777 - The Desanctification review

Year : 2011
Genre : Industrial Black Metal with a cybernetic Sludge flavor
Label : Debemur Morti Productions
Origin : France
Rating : 8.6 / 10

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Blut Aus Nord is here with the second installment of its 777 trilogy. The cover art suggests hypnotic Illuminati connotations with many elements of the consorting symbol language being incapable to represent their meaning via their full efficiency. The All Seeing Eye now is a Yog-Sothothian slime-mess on top of the primordial Pyramid turned upside down, and there are, of course, reptiles, too. What about the guy on the top? The awakening of the proper Human Epitome, or "just" a drawing? No, there really is no such thing in existence as "just a drawing", and France's premiere industrial black metal act shows valiant will to break through human meta-calibration and touch upon the things that purposefully dwell beyond the epitome-hematoma of the "just" and the "is".

The anatomy of the compositional method herein is to create impressively massive-, well researched sonic landscapes that a cyberlich finally feels properly home and comfy at, and the spice on top of things to be witnessed is a strategy to bombard the listener's receptors with a cavalcade of biomechanical sonic entities parked all across the middle frequencies. The album has a more restless beginning and a gradual-, but deceitful tendency to witness decay tinker once it declared its rule set, giving you a sense of cynernetic sludge at the climax, which is quite rare to behold. It sounds like JUST the right music for Doom IV.

If you think you have endured more devastating of a strike before to your astral body then a French (look, me punned, totally!!) kiss from Chaos, then the album should exhibit propensity-evident to remap your consorting sentiments via scientific rigor and ruthless efficiency. Read on to find out more about this biomechanical-, transhumanic rewire device.


Blut Aus Nord's latest probably will reveal its intended full functionality intact and full-paua when the trilogy reaches its completion in 2012. Which, according to certain perspectives, also is the year that Noise Shaft readers will turn into transhumanic light beings. Pha. If you can travel out of-, and into any body you prefer to in order to enrich the existence-experience via free will, then it sounds good to me, amen to that.

This album-, while weighs in as industrial black metal on paper, shows much more interest in revealing more calmly-, but rather menacingly paced cybermeat-structures than to celebrate and resonate the classic mechanics of intensified black metal being on a tier of good old fashioned scythe-related rampage in the front row of 2389423423894239423423 skeletons.

This review now performs an illegal operation to submit to the blind potentiality of Chaos, - not that you and I ever had all that much other chance, anyway - and will start to scrutinize this delivery from track number 2. Track number 2, called Epitome VIII sounds to be one of the most slick contribution of the entire spin. It consists of multiple parts, each with superb respective qualities, and they all share a common denominator via their avid cultivation of the

brutally intimate


Chaos-experience.

The track starts out as an uncompromising piece of diligent insanity-worship, which is a very staggering thing to witness in meat space, because, insanity is the only thing that gets stronger if you choose to fight against it. It is so much more fun to witness it for entertainment purposes, only, so no one needs to get actually hurt, and afterwards/during you have the right to shape your related soul-content to look more beneficiary - or more terrible, I admire your work greatly, Mr. Montana! - on the bigger pictures. Epitome VIII seemingly shows only a momentary escape from the hideous grasp of pain-embodied via its midsection, accomplishing this feat by throwing in rather elegant riffcraft into a bottomless abyss of totally humorless, evil intentions. The riff IS intact, looks good and it rationalizes the notion that right THERE, right THEN it also is your only way out of that fucked up place, but, thing is that you do not dare give hope for the riff at THAT moment. Surprise, surprise : once you are done chasing hope, it starts to chase YOU, instead. Hope is a woman. So real. The elegant cybernetic doom riff paves the sonic landscape to absolutely monstrous beautiful music, music that remains relentlessly abominated and uncompromisingly dainty in its character. You need to hear this one to get where it is coming from, because the music worth listening to is eluded by the stock words. (This is what I call good music review site marketing, too. < - sarcasm.) Track number 3, Epitome IX is a tender, shorter ambient delivery with no danger to encounter - except yourself.

Track number 4, Epitome X comes forth riding on a more tame mood than what you have heard so far on this LP, yet the ingredients of the fabric are consisting of the same-, purposefully tormented aural entities. Regardless of the terrorized background story of these skillfully researched timbers, the first key-structure of this track summons the omnipotence vibe you can bath in via The Who's timeless song Eminence Front, which in my opinion remains as one of the primer epitomes of that mood. During its brisk, bravely shaped progression, track number 4 eventually also sinks into wildspace related pandorum, smothered by a void, godless state from which the only way out is through

- dramatic tams in

The Unbeknownst

- dramatic tams out

and it is looking quite relevant while sinking, too.

Track number 5, called Epitome XI is the music I expect Doom 4 to grace my ears with as the main menu music when I hit escape. If you think I dissed the album with this notion, then your absence from the consorting truth is such indeed that the mere hope of you ever reaching it simply fails to recognize you and vice versa, no matter how hard you two are scrutinizing each other.

This particular Doom video game vibe is even more pronounced in the follow-up track, which is titled : Epitome XII. (Wonder if there is a hidden message in the title??????????????????????,,,,,,,) This installment is an easily accessible, simple, but very powerful build in character, with a superb, mid-frequency soulcrusher riff relentlessly burying all hope under places even Oblivion chickens out at. The riff gets complimented by a haunting, massive chorus from time to time, and the whole track is out there to eat you alive.

As hinted not so much long ago, the percept that the album shows a more observatory stance towards abominated aural entities than to make a vile kind of love to them, is pretty deceitful, which is a good thing, because the main idea herein - obviously enough - is to entertain. The album wraps up with a prolonged-, smartly crafted ode to insanity and/or radical spiritual discomfort.

To be totally frank, - which exactly is why you are here, I hope - I'm impressed with the monumental production values of the release, because it features such obscenely crowded areas from an aural point of view, that the unquestionable integrity of the data is a superb accomplishment. The vocals are tremendously effective for what they want, too. They deny all joy and seek to embrace the seeds of direst needs, and this exactly what makes this record work so efficiently. Nevertheless, I do have the hunch here and there that I'm listening to a fantasy-themed '80s pinball machine demoing to itself without the sear promise of a coin present in the neighboring cosmoses, as far as the compositions themselves go, ON OCCASION. Emphasis on "occasion". Before you BFG my ass away, let me tell you this : I think the record has a quite powerful character-, it is packed with quite a few flashes of profound brilliance, yet there also are decisions on this spin to let a superb build wither away here and there. Minute 7 mark of the opening track comes to mind : from that point on, the structure is spiced up by inventively sculpted and thrillingly rhythmized machine gun drums, but it quickly turns out that their mere occurrence is the effective catharsis of the song itself, and they won't take you anywhere, because they have no destination assigned. Boosh!

This still remains the full-spin record you could consider as background stimuli if to summon Beelzebub to ask 1 single question from him, yet minor blemishes in its fabric prevent it from emerging as a primer variant on the Ultimate Chaos Testament. Like this. I liked one particular sentence of this review dearly, so I will reshape it in order to wrap this review up. Blut Aus Nord's second installment in the 777 trilogy is your ticket to take an exhaustingly thorough stroll in the dire company of a brutally intimate Chaos-experience.

Rating : 8.6 / 10

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