I’m sure everyone reading this remembers the scene from the first Faces of Death where the ‘blood cult’ eats the dead body, right? Okay, so keep that image in your head and then go listen to Profanatica’s new album Wreathed in Dead Angels. Maybe playing the two together will result in some sort of evil Pink Floyd meets The Wizard of Oz mashup.

What-fucking-ever this is a nasty piece of work, people. The filthiest production ever heard this side of the Mississippi has been smeared like the blood of Christendom on this EP.

Mayhemic Slaughter of the Heavens (Drums, Vocals (1990-1992, 2001-present), The True Perversion of the Heavenly Father (Bass (2001-2006, 2024-present)and Destroyer of Holy Hymen (Guitars (2018-present) have been spewing Satanic blasphemy since 1990(!) They released a laundry list of splits, demos, and even a live compilation. However, they didn’t release their first full-length album Profanatitas de Domonatia, until 2007, which is when they first came under my radar.

What we have are six tracks in a short 21:11 minutes. This is priest punching, nun raping Blackened Death Metal and starting with “Hung in Golgatha” you know what you’re going to get. Riffs tearing and slashing, with the battering ram drums keeping hellish time.

“The Sixth Hour” strikes with fangs bared, drawing blood with ease. This album doesn’t let up, it refuses to let you go; no matter how much pain it inflicts. Wreathed in Dead Angels isn’t just a Blackened Death Metal album either; it’s got this Punk pulsing heart that shines through.

I mean they are from New England, you can’t get much more Punk than that, and on “Descent from the Cross” and “The Entombment,” that’s what Profanatica does. They chuck these Punk riffs that sound just dirty as fuck against the blitzkrieg of Black Metal drums.

Since their inception Profanatica has done whatever the fuck they want. I mean three ex-members of Incantation doing their own version of cavernous Blackened Death Metal… you can’t go wrong with that shit.

The last two songs consist of the title track and “By Thine Agony” both are equally savage bursts of speed coupled with solid blasting and more soul-crushing riffs. Profanatica spread the heaviness like menstrual blood on moldy toast.

Once again, I have an album that doesn’t disappoint in what it’s intended to do. Wreathed in Dead Angels is a beating, its impaled angels screaming for mercy while this unflinching brutality rips them apart.

You sick fucks who like Incantation, Blasphemy, Nunslaughter and Archgoat will eat this up.

[Visit the band's website]

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