A storm of crippled guitar murk with unholy plunges 'n' ruptures. The sheer physical density of this stuff is breathtaking. The vox/moan is chilling, like a dying carcass trapped in slow motion doomed to repetition. A cocked hat to Skullflower perhaps, but Robedoor are definitely the business... This is pure occultist noise, near pitch black and unrelenting - a thing of beauty...
... a little taster from Trk 1 for you (the first 5 ish mins of 12)
Available from tanzprocesz, so get in touch.
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