Upon Black Horizons

I wish I were in New Orleans, out on the veranda of a garden apartment on Carondelet, sipping a Pim’s Cup and reading Nabokov and blasting mosquitoes out of the air with Television’s amazing “Marquee Moon” album. (If you call yourself interested in guitar music and aren’t familiar with “Marquee Moon,” you’re simply a cock. This 1977 masterpiece ain’t metal, but it is a symposium on composition, melody and counterpoint, and improvisation. Brilliant.)

Instead, I’m on the floor of my apartment drinking Yoo-Hoo and trying to review this absolute piece of shit. The thing that so offends me here is the total lack of even trying. Abominant simply strung together thirty-six minutes’ worth of black/death cliches, tacked on some faux-evil mug shots (with beer!), and called it an album. The fucker is so faceless that it took me a couple of minutes to name-check the bands that they’re Xeroxing. When I began to hear chunks of Marduk and Dissection and Immortal, etc. none of whom are worth a bootfull of piss to me (but I digress), I managed to lose even more interest. And the liner notes actually give a “fuck-off to…posers…rap-core” etc. Seriously. Is that fucking METAL or what?

Why a band of presumably talented musicians from Kentucky would want to sound EXACTLY like a trillion or so talentless dicks from Scandia is way beyond me. But they made the call, so bend over, boys. The only greater mystery is why a label from Georgia (whoever the fuck “Deathgasm” is) would think that releasing this trash would serve any greater good. It IS all about the greater good, y’know – Power To The People! (Actually, Fuck The People, but again I digress.) I happen to have a pretty fair appreciation for black metal, but I can’t even like this as parody. And if someone out there DOES dig it, you should be ashamed of yourself. The cover of “Fight To Be Free” only reminds me what a cool band Nuclear Assault was. “Upon Dark Horizons” is loud, I’ll give it that. As an antidote to silence, it just might make the nut. Me, I kinda like the quiet, so fuck this. Listening to this album is as pointless and pathetic as waking up alone with your dick in your hand. Again.

[Visit the band's website]
Written by Jeff Lamb
January 5th, 2002


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