Erebus Enthroned ‎"Temple Under Hell" CD

Includes a 16 page colour booklet with original artworks by Denis Forkas Kostromitin.

Metal albums differ in many respects. Just take a look at their accessibility. Sometimes you understand each and every song of a full-length very quickly (Kreator). Occasionally you are in the album even in a matter of seconds, but before you can turn around you are out again (Toxic Holocaust). Other albums want to be unlocked and don’t grant complete access during the first two or three spins (Malokarpatan). Finally, there are craggy works that are more difficult to conquer than the Mount Everest. And exactly this is the moment where “Temple Under Hell” shows up. Okay, I’m exaggerating, but there is a grain of truth in it. Erebus Enthroned (another once promising band that is no longer active – didn’t they know that any kind of splitting up is forbidden?) brew a very dark, obscuring and vehement form of black (roughly 75%) and thrash (consequently 25%) metal. Already the partly morbid, partly vehement, partly desperate opener (with a duration of almost ten minutes) marks an indigestive chunk. It’s astonishing; Norwegian black thrash hordes often have the charm of juvenile brats that want to demonstrate their adolescent strength, but comparable Australians (Denouncement Pyre or Deströyer 666, for example) like to devastate with the distant coolness yet extreme mercilessness of an adult mass murder. Even bands like Assaulter, another formation from Down Under that called it a day much too early, had this filthy, rude sharpness, even though their music had nothing in common with black metal (and not much in common with thrash). It seems as if the dudes on this remote continent have a general affinity for raw attacks and the underlying diabolic impulse is omnipresent. Erebus Enthroned hammer their tunes with utter conviction into the audience. They celebrate their complex patterns pretty excessively. Don’t expect lame, conventional nonsense like verse-chorus-verse, the horde has better things to do. Its wealth of ideas is the reason why it takes more than 47 minutes until the album clocks in – although it bundles only seven compositions. The Australians present songs that consist of a string of different violent eruptions. They intersperse a few number of rather gloomy parts, but mostly the listener is confronted with evil sounds in their purest and most ravaging form. High-paced drumming builds the backbone for raging guitars that rather create a wall of sound than any kind of melody. Just check out the rumbling yet lethal wall of noise that shapes broad parts of “Crucible of Vitriol” – or any other song, they are all spawned by a misanthropic mind. In view of this instrumental inferno, it goes without saying that the lead vocalist also does not spread happy vibrations. His demonic voice completes the apocalyptic scenario. While the guitars do not shy away from rare moments of laxity, this dude permanently shows the grim side of his personality. Honestly speaking, either he can enhance his mood or I don’t want to meet him in a low frequented street at midnight. Songs like “Void Wind” come in like a beast of prey that is seeking its favourite food after 72 hours without any meal. Even though it feels free to slow down the tempo at the end and to give the guitars room to spread their menacing sounds, the song is the pure nightmare for every consumer who is not familiar with this kind of metal. However, each and every song of this disquieting shock called “Temple Under Hell” carries the torch of the underground’s demonic forces. I just needed some time to understand the compositions and to find their best moments (the speedy parts of the quasi title track). But I promise: if the band comes back for a third full-length, I will climb on Mount Everest again.

Sample: https://www.youtube.com/watch?...