I Wish to Be Alone with My God

Akercocke (UK)

Choronzon

November 4, 2003

Welcome to Satan's burlesque cabaret, hosted by none other than the Son of the Morning himself, Lucifer the Light-Bearing Fallen One. Hell's house band, Akercocke, the sharpest dressed men in death metal, will be providing tonight's soundtrack. Gentlemen and VIP only beyond this point. The blood of Christ shall be served all evening, aged over 2000 years to sinful perfection for only worthy occasions such as this. Only the finest of exotic dancers shall provide the entertainment; seduction and temptation know no bounds down here. Give in to your desires, and partake in deathly defilement. Bear witness to a head-spinning display of brutality with an un-fucking-touchable sense of class. Eternal black mass orgies shall follow as the after-party. Brutal avant-garde death metal, one of the best vocalists in the business and a subtle keen sense of progressive flair around the edges and a ruthless display of instrumental pyrotechnics. Light that cigar, this harem oasis amidst the desert of Hell awaits your presence.

Burial at Sognefjorden

Windir (Norway)

Likferd

March 27, 2003

The late primal warrior Valfar's final gift to the earthly realm was a resonant swansong of Windir, a masterful homage to his homeland, Norway. Norse and viking heritage provides the pulse and the life blood of all releases by Windir, and here, such rich emotional tapestries are carefully composed on the scale of symphonies to an utterly astounding achievement to which all current forms of viking/Norse/historic/folk metal albums strive to compare. Valfar's fierce and admiral persona is portrayed with magnificence amongst the lyrical content and noble ideals represented through selected artworks and the driving current of the general themes and sense of (in)humanity weaving throughout this work. Despite the electronic experimentation that blossoms around the edges of much of the tracks, there is an aura of delicate grace and humble pride noticibly absent in most of today's regurgitations of 90's romanticized odes to times long past. Though pummelling aggression, such as found in "Despot" and "On the Mountain of Goats," flaunt a merciless strength of character and backbone. Today, remember a fallen star with a listen. RIP.

Nearly Flying

Manes (Norway)

Vilosophe

May 2003

Goddamn, it's one of those mornings today. No sleep last night, uncomfortable dreams poking their way into my unwilling head, early to work this morning, you know how it is. I had another post all worked out for today but I'm scrapping that one for this one. I need a pick-me-up, and considering I had the best day snowboarding on the weekend, I couldn't pick a better album than Manes' 2003 turning point album Vilosophe. The easy gliding electronic influences like a velvet shroud blanketing the frigid blackened core goes down so naturally while sliding down a frozen mountain. And it tends to get me thinking no matter how rough my morning could get, no matter how hard my hangover can dictate my thought process and motor skills, it could be worse. That clever beast of Irony never fails to slap a cheeky smirk on my face. Is that the best you got? I'm still standing and shit will still get done. By the time "Diving with Your Hands Bound" slogs its way through one hell of a snow storm, I can reflect a bit easier, 'cuz its you and I, baby. You and I fought everyone. You and I forever. Stop it now, come, let's go...