Review Summary: Exactly what the album cover suggests.
Ahhh black metal, that good old uncomfortable genre ov frostbitten guitars and kvlt demon howls. That genre of distant and dissonant, echoey, yet bowel shaking shrieks from within a dark wood during winter. It is a mighty genre, perfected in the fires of Hell by Satan himself. This is Satan worshipping music, the kind that spurs you to bvrn churches and steal money from collection plates to save money for your porn collection. Xenoglyph know all of this well, and their time has come to do exactly as the genre requires (Satan worship isn’t actually required, but some weirdos might think of it as a perk).
In terms of variety, Spiritfraud cycles between doom metal influenced bits, blastbeat portions, and melodic guitar bits. And when I mean they cycle, I mean it’s all at once like a little kid shifting gears on a bicycle. Indeed, it seemlessly flows like a chocolate fondue fountain, but one that paralyzes its victim and then draws a pentagram around him on the top of a snowy mountain. A corny, ancient sounding keyboard accompanies this blood sacrifice, and ensures the darkest of winters. As you might guess, it’s not a terribly original album, though the guitar tone is gorgeous like yo mama in a tight leather dress. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanna re-read that last sentence to conjure that image again.
Honestly, I haven’t enjoyed an atmospheric black metal album this much in a while. “There’s something for everyone!” is what a cereal box would say, and I agree with the cereal box, although if I’m still being honest I generally find cereal agreeable. This album is so well done, so exactly what I want from atmospheric black metal. I may not be Norwegian, but I feel Norwegian listening to this. Hot damn! Those distant shrieks and those guitars sound so good. I already said that but *** damn does it have a bight like a shark.
But hold on, this isn’t the best black metal album ever. It’s pleasant like a cold shower on a hot summer day, but at some point that freezes your ***ing balls off. Indeed! The harsh shrieks that fade into the background are at some point samey, and the pleasant, icey riffing can sound rather routine like folding laundry. My last complaint is that the snare drum sounds like Mr. Bean slapping someone with a dead fish. In conclusion, it’s not a perfect album.
Amidst the knowledge that this album may bore certain so-called “elite” black metal listeners, I still think this bumps more than a camel driving Fred Flintstone’s vehicle on a gravel hill. It’s like a fresh glass of beer after not having beer in years because you kicked your addiction (probably a terrible metaphor because I don’t have that personal experience), therefore this album will get you addicted to black metal again. The blastbeats and double bass pedal beats are enough to rock you in a motion simulator. The growly scary dog is enough to make you pee your pants. Xenoglyph kind of rule, and so does that band name and album cover. Therefore, in summary, it is a pretty fun album but not recommended for “leet” cunts.
