il va être très agréable…
You know, those warheads thinking that their Akitsa or Bone Awl or you-name-it poor production punk-black/dark ambient bands have the last word in noise, chaos or atmosphere haven’t heard this, for sure. I have no idea whether they weren’t interested in LLN or they simply didn’t want to join the kvltwagon drooling over pwecious awesome LLN releases, the main idea is that they didn’t get to listen to some Brenoritvrezorkre.
People, you are such superficial donuts owned by this mini-masterpiece.
I keep wondering: how did such a horrendous, abnormal, piss-poor production aid to maintaining the ultimate sound of vileness? This surpasses even Nevgzerya in terms of both catastrophic and heroic low-fi proceedings. It makes even Akitsa’s Totale Servitude look like a glamorous brother of Outkast’s Speakerboxxx, produced by Scott Storch and waiting to be reviewed by a big-nosed pop elitist. Brenoritvrezorkre are not focused on creating soundscapes depicting war scenes. They are not even focused on filthy, “cool” hyper-sexual satanism (Witchmaster, no comment!). This is colder than death itself, it’s a murky, vast sea of stone and clouds, a void with no life in it, haunted by immaterial forms celebrating the dehumanization of the Universe. And no, it’s not your average industrial piece of krap.
The melodies should’ve been taken note of a very long time ago, and seeing that this album ain’t got twenty blazin’ reviews at this time steps on my cojones and drives me crazy. Simply put, these are some of the absolutely most genre-defining riffs in the history of black metal. All these songs have highly memorable “melodies” or better said, sounds that embrace the very essence of death and bleakness. Scooby-Doo would set himself and his team on fire when hearing the first notes of this record. It’s so frightening and desolate that it defies all expectations. A ghastly wave of distorsion and dissonant chords flows all over your spirit, threatening to slam it to bits, and the outrageous, shameless, distant thumping of the drums is a worthy match for dementia itself battering the rocky cliffs with human bones. There is no traceable punk influence in this album, it just packs a whole legion of demons, obliterating any sign of hope.
The vocalist or vocalists, can’t really get the picture, is not of this world anymore. We are talking about sheer disturbing chants of putrefaction here. A distant voice that is croaking, whining, screaming and whispering, cutting through the fog, like a chant from the depths hidden by human remains. This is as horrifying as it gets. All these songs/chants were so memorable and so unique, that not even the final salute (ahm, buttplug LLN dark ambient!) didn’t manage to lift more than a single percentage point from the shoulders of this titan of death!
I suggest more “black metal fans” get close to this and dare to stand in front of its majestic abyss of oblivion. Sure, at first it might be lacking innovation or unidimensional, considering you’ve spent your life listening to Arcturus or Manes (you get the picture), or too experimental and without some serious lumps of crap included, considering you’ve spent your life listening to Vermeth, Sick, and Archgoat (you get the picture again). Just do yourself a favor.
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