Some Roads

There are roads that swallow one’s chances up, even if all the bridges are left standing.

After all, some roads do require the whole man.

Arrival

How would true infernal majesty arrive in this pathetic mudball called earth? Would it be as an uncanny, medieval-like experimentation, on dismembered limbs?

Perhaps such majesty will come as a pair of darkly-hallowed couple. A couple with whom death seems to smile as bright as the midday Sun. 

Or it could also be coming forth from the barren, cold dimensions, as a portal in a damp, hazy swamp. Oozing with darkness, brimming with vices…

Necro

If you’re going to keep claiming something that you have musically produced as being ‘necro’, then do be prepared to expect psychotic dickheads such as me to demand a few prerequisites in relation to the claim.

First of all is the cavernous, murky and guttural quality of the recorded works presented on the platter. Anything short of morbid, uncanny whispers and groans as would be expected on gatherings of sketchy personages, within the confines of darkened rooms and hallways, of a dusty candle lit mansion, is simply unacceptable.

Then of course come the musty, filthy feel of the music itself to be considered. Anything less than the semblance of a darkened, foggy night shade in a damp and densely wooded valley, colored by none other than a pale moonlight, are absolutely NOT ‘necro’. 

 

Even worst, any attempted charade, to artificially present the aforementioned nuances, will definitely guarantee your talentless musical endeavor a place in ‘our’ psychopathic hateful killing-list…