Review Summary: demons ‘n’ shizz
Imprecation deserves credit for making death metal that elicits the senses as well as Damnatio Ad Bestias
does. This exceptionally filthy, blackened, and hellfire-charred slab of USDM practically oozes the standard death metal charm in all it’s kitschy, satanic glory, but there’s something more here. There’s a smell - a burning smell - something like scorching brimstone, never to be extinguished. There’s a burning feeling too, one like a fiery welt in the chest, a lump of heartburn in anxious anticipation for the next blistering solo or crunchy riff. There’s also the more stock senses to behold, screams of innocents, sensual moans of demons fucking each other, the shattering whelp of hope leaving as holy relics are smashed to pieces, the whole kit and caboodle.
I guess that’s why I was a bit nervous about approaching this one, I really don’t want this review to fall into solely the pitfall of “this is the most evil thing put to record,” but god damn if this shit doesn't sound like Beelzebub's wet dream soaked in a dark purple-tinged acid. It ticks all the boxes a modern old school death metal record needs to check, really, but there’s something more there. Hidden deep in there, past the sodomy, sin, and serpents, something special lies in just how well these tracks are written. There’s a knowingly sinister atmosphere that’s laid on in a comparable manner to bands like Blaspherian and, while cheesy to say, that overtone is fucking villainous
Evil, demons, murder, all things we've come to expect. Maybe it’s that playing with common, familiar ground that makes this record so enticing (after all, I hardly expected to like this as much as I do), it’s deceptively familiar, but still engaging in the songwriting department, as well as the performance and production sectors. Murk is the name of the game and, in that filth and fire, is deep bass-lines, surprisingly complex guitar work, and multifaceted drum-work - all hidden in a meekly standard disguise.
Was this on purpose" Probably not. It’s more an unassuming, unintentional masking, one where a seemingly “meat-and-potatoes” sound is a lot more lively and thought out than most, which is something that becomes more obvious upon further listening. And, like I said earlier, there are vivid sense triggers are everywhere - the somewhat-goofy horror organ/steady riff combo on “The Shepard and The Flock,” the ominous rhythm guitar work on “Baptized in the Blood of Satan,” the steady, punishing, pummeling percussion on the title track, or the ferocious growls of blasphemy that litter this whole record. It all serves in building a dense aura of satanic war, the kind of which that is bloody, brutal, and gruesome...
Pardon the cliché.