Review Summary: A review too extreme?
Oh, dear reader...
Sunday night. I was bored. So bored, in fact, that I realized it had been ages since the last time I wrote a review for Sputnik. And that led me to a legitimate concern: it had been far too long since I'd received messages full of "affection" and "kindness" explaining why my musical opinions are wrong.
Given the situation, I had two options. The first was to write about some sacred cow of metal that I consider wildly overrated. Something like Bonded by Blood, for example. The second was to do the exact opposite: pick an album I genuinely enjoy that a large portion of the metal community treats as a crime against humanity.
I chose the latter, just for a change.
And few albums serve that purpose as well as Illud Divinum Insanus. The record that divided fans, confused critics, traumatized purists, and apparently convinced a significant portion of the audience that Morbid Angel had completely lost their minds.
Before going any further, I should probably make a confession. I'm not exactly this band's target audience. To be honest, I've never been much of a death metal fan. And when I say that, I'm being polite. To be brutally honest, I generally find death metal... mind-numbingly boring.
Perhaps that's precisely why Illud Divinum Insanus never bothered me as much as it bothered many Morbid Angel fans. Over the years, whenever I came across criticism of the album, the main accusation always seemed to be more or less the same: "this isn't death metal."
Honest question: so what?
Which, if we're being honest, is a rather curious observation. It may be a marketing problem. It may even be a betrayal of a genre's core values. But it doesn't strike me as a particularly useful way to determine whether an album is good or bad. After all, music should be judged by how well it accomplishes what it sets out to do, not merely by its adherence to a stylistic rulebook approved by a council of elders of sonic brutality.
That said, I'm not going to pretend I don't understand the backlash. Context matters. Illud Divinum Insanus didn't emerge in a vacuum. It arrived after eight years without a studio album and carried the enormous expectations generated by David Vincent's return and the reunion of what many considered Morbid Angel's classic lineup.
I don't think fans were looking for reinvention. They were expecting another altar dedicated to death metal. They wanted labyrinthine riffs, cosmic blasphemies, blast beats and another demonstration of why Morbid Angel was one of the most influential bands in the history of the genre.
But what they got was something very different.
And, to be fair, the album doesn't even begin the way its detractors often describe it. The opening track, "Omni Potens", immediately establishes a dark, ritualistic, unsettling atmosphere. It sounds like the soundtrack to some forbidden ceremony taking place in a damp basement dedicated to deities whose names should never be spoken aloud.
In fact, it accomplishes that goal so effectively that it reminds me of a housekeeper who worked for me when I lived in Rio de Janeiro. Every time this track started playing, her reaction was almost automatic: the sign of the cross, a look of disapproval, and obvious concern for the fate of my soul. It was so funny!
If the goal of the introduction was to create a sense of unease, of coming into contact with something dark and potentially malevolent, Morbid Angel nailed it. Before the first actual riff even arrives, the album had already convinced at least one person that demonic forces were being summoned in the living room.
That's a respectable achievement, isn't it?
The problem (or the fun, depending on your perspective) begins immediately afterward with "Too Extreme!".
And here I have to admit that the album's critics have a strong point. If someone played this song for me without telling me who recorded it, "Morbid Angel" would probably be far down my list of guesses.
It doesn't move at hyperspeed, it isn't built around the labyrinthine structures many associate with the band, and it certainly doesn't follow a conventional songwriting formula. In fact, it's strange in almost every possible way. The industrial elements are far more prominent, the dynamics are unusual, David Vincent abandons much of the traditional death metal vocal approach, and the entire song feels as though it was designed specifically to make fans uncomfortable.
And perhaps that was a sin too extreme (got it?).
So after a strong opening, listeners were probably expecting to be crushed by an avalanche of classic death metal. Instead, they got something experimental, eccentric, and completely at odds with the expectations created by the reunion of the classic lineup.
The reaction was not exactly warm.
But the question I always ask myself is a different one: does any of that actually make it a bad song?
For me, no.
Strange? Absolutely. Weird? Very. Out of place within the band's discography? Also yes. But if I judge it for what it actually is rather than what fans wanted it to be, I find a heavy, oppressive, personality-filled track that is, above all else, interesting. It may fail as a natural continuation of anything Morbid Angel had done before, but it works remarkably well as its own experience.
Immediately after "Too Extreme!" come "Existo Vulgoré" and "Blades for Baal" which, together with "Nevermore" and "Beauty Meets Beast", form a quartet of songs that leave absolutely nothing to be desired for any death metal fan. All the elements that made Morbid Angel an institution within the genre are present here: aggressive riffs, tempo shifts, relentless drumming, cavernous vocals, and a dark atmosphere that spills out of every composition. These are heavy, violent songs that are, above all else, unmistakably death metal. So why all the hate.
Maybe it has something to do with "Radikult". This track is probably the point where many listeners abandoned any remaining goodwill and officially declared war on the record. And honestly, I get it.
Because "Radikult" isn't merely different from what people expect from Morbid Angel. It feels almost provocative. As if the band looked at every criticism they might receive and decided to turn it into a checklist.
The most surprising thing is that the song has groove. It has swing. Yes, swing! I never imagined I would be writing that word in a review of a Morbid Angel album, but here we are.
While much of traditional death metal builds its identity on speed, constant aggression, and a certain rhythmic rigidity, "Radikult" moves differently. It sways. It breathes. At times it develops an almost infectious bounce, something that feels completely alien to what most people associate with this band. Too extreme (you finally got it, right?)!!
And perhaps that's exactly why I find it so interesting as someone who isn't particularly a fan of death metal. Nothing about "Radikult" attempts to conform to the rulebook of orthodox death metal. There's no concern whatsoever about proving its brutality credentials before an imaginary jury of angry internet metalheads. The song simply follows its own path, embracing a more restrained, more accessible, and dare I say it, even fun approach.
Which, for some listeners, is probably an even greater heresy than the industrial elements scattered throughout other parts of the album. After all, experimenting with electronics is one thing. Suggesting that a Morbid Angel song might possess an actual sense of groove is something else entirely.
I'm not claiming that "Radikult" is some hidden masterpiece or one of the greatest songs of the band's career. But it is also nowhere near the unlistenable monstrosity its reputation would suggest. Quite the opposite, actually: I like it quite a bit.
But "I Am Morbid" is, for me, the album's undisputed highlight.
And the funny thing is that it, too, is far removed from traditional death metal. There are no absurd tempos and no avalanche of blast beats. Its strength comes from weight, intensity, and presence. The main riff is fantastic, David Vincent sounds absolutely commanding, and the entire song radiates confidence.
"I Am Morbid" doesn't impress through sheer brutality. It impresses because it is simply a great song. Heavy, intense, memorable, and blessed with a personality that many entire albums within the genre fail to achieve. If I had to point to a single track that justifies my affection for Illud Divinum Insanus, this would probably be it.
Before wrapping things up, it's worth mentioning "Destructos vs. the Earth / Attack". If there is one song that supports the accusation that Morbid Angel openly flirted with industrial music, it's this one. At times, the track feels closer to something Marilyn Manson might have recorded than to a classic death metal song. It is probably everything the more conservative fans did not want to hear on a Morbid Angel album.
I understand the criticism.
But I also can't pretend I don't enjoy the sheer audacity of it. And I genuinely like the song.
Meanwhile, "10 More Dead" operates in much more familiar territory. In many ways, it follows the same philosophy as "I Am Morbid": less speed, more weight. It's a slow-burning, oppressive track built around massive riffs. It may not deliver the same immediate impact as "I Am Morbid", but it works very well.
At the end of the day, I completely understand why Illud Divinum Insanus became one of the most hated albums in extreme metal history. Morbid Angel chose experimentation over safety at precisely the moment when fans were expecting a celebration of the band's roots. Instead of delivering another monument to traditional death metal, they decided to flirt with industrial sounds that, at various moments, recall Rammstein, Combichrist, and even Marilyn Manson.
It was a risky gamble.
And judging by the reaction, it was a gamble that clearly infuriated a large portion of the band's audience.
Perhaps it's precisely because I'm not a huge death metal fan that I can appreciate Illud Divinum Insanus without carrying the same resentment as many listeners. While some hear betrayal, I hear a veteran band trying something different, fully aware that it might fail spectacularly.
And honestly, I'll take an ambitious failure over a band running on autopilot any day of the week.
