Our shadowy cabal of scribes has happened upon one of the most wondrous and/or perplexing albums in existence. The following reviews, released over the course of several days, is our humble attempt to decipher that which lays before us. Prepare thyself. - Ed.
Written by: Capt. Graves (and his
grisly extraterrestrial compatriots)
As I smoke my cigarette, I feel better than I have in hours. The only thing that's changed? That album isn't playing. Remmirath reminds me of a bunch of angry dads: "Clean your room!" "Where's my screwdriver?"
American Football-style leads really make us cringe. A couple surf rock and disco breaks make me want to hate them even more. This is the kind of music I want to like, but hate with every last bit of my being. If you put video game sounds inside of a shit black metal band, this is what you get. Never will we listen to this album again. I think I broke my ears giving them an ounce of my time. The guy rooting around in his garage really spoke to my hate. Some weird soundtrack to a horrible acid trip, and then I just lost control.
Remmirath - Shambhala Vril Saucers was released March 2015 from Todestrieb Records
Remmirath can be found laying absolute waste to expectations at:
Providing thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy, and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a groggy-eyed, highfalutin peasantry.