Full-length number two from these Spanish poison-peddlers just dropped and already appears to be mustering a fair amount of publicity. And like most anything that rides the rails of a bulleting heavy metal hype train, there’s a pretty clear and equal line drawn between those in favor and those who remain opposed to Teitanblood‘s brand of noisy, stretched antique death metal.
I can certainly understand why plenty would fall into the latter category: Listening to this sort of burning, unholy mess feels a bit like the sonic equivalent of having your face pulled apart by ghoulish meat hooks after opening Lemarchand’s box. Opener “Anteinfierno,” for example, fires from the gate like 10,000 pissed devils with 10,000 pounds of explosives keastered and ready to blow, and each tune that follows features extensive measures of similarly crackling, chaotic, swirling maelstrom crammed to agonizing excess through generous use of wriggling, maggoted leads. Distressing, to put it mildly, but to quote a curious statement featured in Death‘s accompanying documentation:
“The second Teitanblood album corrects the misconception about death metal being music. Mortui vivos docent.”
That last bit translates from Latin into “the dead teach the living,” and the first bit is something your Daft Punk-listening pal has been trying to convince you of for years. So, yeah… Not exactly the prime choice for an accompanying soundtrack to your bbq with the neighbors while the kids hit the ol’ Slip’N Slide. Unless your idea of Shangri-la involves endlessly explaining why and when you decided to let your life derail into a fiery, deranged wreck.
As mentioned, the majority of Death‘s material is pretty lengthy. Five of the seven tunes break the 9 minute mark, with three pushing well-beyond 10, so it’s a punishing, lingering trip recommenced from the equally drawn-out EPs the band produced prior to this release.
“Sleeping Throats of the Antichrist” (12:27) starts with a nasty crawl that quickly gives way to a rotting gallop and surprisingly scooting midriff, but any semblance of deceleration gets blown to bosons once “Plagues of Forgiveness” thrusts the listener’s face right back into Hell’s boiler for 9+ minutes. This is Death‘s principle goal: To smolder, pulverize, and then slowly drag you kicking and screaming through the blistering soot. Lovely stuff. And closer “Silence of the Martyrs” drops the curtain with 16 minutes of unnerving horror intensified with the sort of cursed monk chanting you’d expect to hear during the birth of Rosemary’s baby.
Comparitively speaking, Teitanblood is to death metal what Germany’s Katharsis is to black metal: A terminally ugly, hallucinatory, abysmal gape into the appalling void that awaits all you filthy sinners, and Death represents an ideal accomplice to your fiery descent.
Sure to be one of 2014’s most formidable highlights.
