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Showing posts with label Cylic Law. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cylic Law. Show all posts

Saturday, 13 July 2019

MUUR - Bod album review.


Album: Bod
Artist: MUUR
Label: Cyclic Law
Catalogue no: 143rd Cycle

Tracklist:

      1.      Bod



MUUR’s Bod is composed of a single track of deeply resonant, atavistic, subterranean, and primeval ritual occult ambient, rising up from the deepest chasms. Strangely-garbed and faceless figures huddle in secret temples, bathed in the dim light of sacred fires and billows of incense, singing chants of abysmal power accompanied by instruments made from bone. This is the sound of tectonics shifting, of the planet realigning itself into a new paradigm, of ages-old power preparing itself for a renewal and resurgence into the light of the modern era. Tinkling finger-cymbals, guttural throat-singing reciting ancient texts that were once buried with our ancestors, massive fuzzed-out guitar chords, all set against swathes of deep sweeping bass chords and primitive rhythms. It’s like listening to the very earth itself reawakening a long-entombed power, a power that has been biding its time until all the right elements are properly aligned, a calling up of preternatural entities to wrest the world from the desecrators and defilers.

This really is the most extraordinary and the most glorious piece of ritual ambient I’ve heard recently. This goes straight to the limbic system in our brains, stimulating our most primitive instincts and connections. This is after all the purpose of rituals such as these – to forge links with those aspects of ourselves and our world that we’ve forgotten or lost. More than that, those deep subterranean voices and bass rumbles are felt deeply, sometimes physically in the pit of one’s stomach. These aren’t some empty ritualistic gestures aimed at some abstract deity: no, the entities addressed here are far older, far more real, and far more deeply embedded in the fabric of our reality than we are wont to acknowledge. These beings or, rather, spirits are intertwined with the physical matter that constitutes our planet. Even so, they are capricious in nature and they are not beholden to us: we are merely passengers.

MUUR’s Bod is goose-pimple-inducing, and the hairs on the back of my neck and arms stood up, plus shivers ran down my spine. It’s a reaction that’s a result of our mind and body remembering – the resurfacing of our most hidden memories that modern society and civilisation have covered over with unnecessary detritus. It’s a reminder too of what we’ve forgotten, and what we’ve lost, as well as a signpost to a deeper reality.

Let the gods of the elder times sweep you along and bring you face to face with your ancestors – you’ll be grateful for it.  

Out on 30th July and available as a CD in an edition of 500 from Cyclic Law’s Bandcamp page here: https://cycliclaw.bandcamp.com/album/bod

Sunday, 30 June 2019

Trepanerungsritualen & Nordvargr - Konung Krönt i Blod / Salve Teragmon EP


Album: Konung Krönt i Blod / Salve Teragmon EP


Artist: Trepanerungsritualen & Nordvargr

Label: Cyclic Law

Catalogue  no: 124th Cycle

Tracklist:

1  Konung Krönt i Blod
 Salve Teragmon


What happens when two juggernauts of the industrial scene collide and re-envision each other’s material? In a nutshell – this recently released limited edition 7” of 300 is what you get. It’s amazing just how much brooding malice and blackened atmospherics can be crammed into something which comes in at just under ten minutes.

‘Konung Krönt i Blod’ (King Crowned in Blood) is savage enough in its original form (which can be heard on TPR’s 2014 Perfection & Permanence album) but somehow Nordvargr has managed to create something even more terrifying by stretching it, dragging it through fire and mud, then rinsing the detritus off in industrial-strength acid. What the process leaves is a blackened bare-bones carcass drenched in decay and filth.

TPR (Thomas Ekelund) slices apart the black-industrial/swamp-dance stylings of Nordvargr’s ‘Salve Teragmon’ with an axle-grinder, reassembles it with rusty nails and surgical sutures, and then finally subjects it to unhealthy doses of radioactivity. The original’s percussive element is the only part of it that’s been retained but even then it’s mutated into something considerably begrimed, soiled, and thoroughly infected and dripping with ichor.

This has been out since May 1st but I have no hesitation in declaring it one of my records of the year so far. It has all the elements that dock into my taste receptors in whatever part of my brain that processes such things and brings out the happy. It’s been quite a while since I’ve heard such stained and tainted magnificence. If you can find the original 7” vinyl the grab it, otherwise it’s available on Bandcamp on the link below:

Essential.

Psymon Marshall 2019