Review Summary: burn
There is only one truth that exists and that truth is death and every human should think about death all of the time because all other things are fleeting and the things that humans call joy and happiness are an insubstantial delusion, a frail and pitiful shield that humans convince themselves are real and solid and tangible in order to prolong the fantasy of life but those things are false because those things end and death does not.
Immolation are a band of humans that sing songs about death because they have accepted that reality is finite and everything that is finite can hold no intrinsic value and the way in which humans invest their egos in reality is a sad mutual charade that they all undertake to pretend that there is no death. But there is death and death pervades all things and it does not matter how you die only that you are dead and time will pass and your feats will be forgotten and all laughable efforts that you made to carve proof of your existence into this rock or any of the other rocks floating through the apathetic blackness of space will be worn away in the finity of reality. This demo contains two songs which combined are eight minutes and six seconds long which if you think about it in the long and tired bowels of time is a mercifully short time in which to die. These two raw and pure odes to death exemplify and worship the cosmic horror of life and futility and and belie an understanding that in the face of the massive and incomprehensible power of death that the only thing to do is play evil riffs on a guitar and rasp words into a microphone even if words by definition can only describe to a minuscule extent the immense truth of death. Even though there is no appeasing death the riffs are all triumphant celebrations of the truth of death that seem to shiver and tremble in the wake of their dread duty but deliver with legitimate chaos the merest taste of the sanity absolving absolution of perfect and pure nothingness, of the most profound stillness and emptiness, of death. Conventionally drummers in bands are there to keep time for the rest of the musicians but here the desperate primal pounding serves only as a reminder to the hollow emptiness of all things which are not death. The vocalist of the band does his best impression of a corpse in an attempt to in some way reconcile with death but he is not dead yet and his insane growls and screams are only base imitation of what might be heard in the unsounded crypts of hell and hell does not exist anyway only death exists.
Death is owed no dues but it in the impossibility and absurdity of reality it must be respected and to pay the most meagre of tributes to it you should hear this thing.
