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Rudimentary Alchemy for Iconoclastic Fiends - 87%

trieffiewiles, January 1st, 2018
Written based on this version: 2013, Cassette, Independent

Infernal Slave’s thus far solitary effort is about the most primitive form alchemy can take and yet it is far more effective than the wankery of either trend peddlers pandering for green from cowardly niche crowds or mere dabblers operating on huge budget with popular support. Living fiends deeply in tune with their many demons that drive them, have no need for these civilized crutches. I call this band rudimentary alchemists because that’s exactly what they are; without specific name or school, but primal and elemental just the same.

From my point of view they are a memetic mingling of the most relentless of First Wave blackness, Sarcofago’s I.N.R.I. for instance, with the madness of Cape of Bats, who blended the formers’ psychotic id throes with the manic delirium of deathrock, all topped off with the approach Tombs took on Path of Totality (a gem of the relative mainstream) involving their restless blur of drum + cymbal and distant roaring vocals casting a sandstorm of echoes over all else. Take all that pandemoniacal chaos and strip out the embellishment of guitar solos and you’ll get the idea. If you’re a human, it ain’t fucking for you. A choir of demons to some, angels to others. From my point of view, magnificent and promising shit.

Discovered via the equally magnificent and sadly no more Aquarius Records. May the tremulous ecosystem of the underground stir itself until it vomits on a cosmic level, expelling the infestation of human scum and their petty trends and paper-thin traditions. When only the ever fertile Bed of Chaos remains, all the powerful fiends who can stampede through fire and ice and sandstorm and malaria alike without the need of weaklings’ castles to hide behind, all utopias will be abandoned and left to rot like Anor Londo or Chernobyl. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, to such psychotic visions, this cassette would serve well as a soundtrack.

Not much more need be said. A stripped and slowed-down First Wave, mid-paced but definitely seething with a bloodlust of such tinge. Tempered with an echoing and delirious aftermath, like strange dreams accompanying the succumbing to drunkeness from that very bloodlust. Sounds as though it were recorded in a vast cave under Silent Hill in complete darkness, using found gear and lots of mescaline. What a treat. Hope they continue.