„Every time we burn a gallon of gas or an acre of rain forest, aren’t we killing the future to preserve the present?”
/Chuck Palahniuk – Choke/
Related to Benighted in Sodom I’ve recently composed a review, therefore I would prefer to leave the rounds of biographical & discographical instructions out. Incidentally, Matron Thorn must be an incredibly fertile kind of artist, since this album in question has been the third full-length since my Hybrid Parasite Evangelistica review and at the same time there even were a compilation and two EPs in the row of his works. He managed to find a label to release them all…
Compared to 2010, the musical conception didn’t really change; we get the same depressive and dark black metal from the Florida guy, who – instead of the cognition of his own blood vessels & drug overdoses – continues to play his guitar, though he would not proceed this far.
The responsibility belongs to Bad Mood Man, so the sound is correct and the externalities also match this weary vegetation well. Its basic tones are structured by elements like Burzum, Life Is Pain and Forgotten Woods right here too, the only difference may be that this time the songs are streaming into one another. They take a post-rock nature and there is much more calm and pulsating fall to discover. We’re becoming a part of a grand flood, in the ark of Death. Our bodies are flouncing in the sea of mortal life, as the ship slowly begins to sink and disperses with the venomous mists of despair, happiness and eternity. The mixture of melancholic melodies and pain tears the almost healed tissues of the depth’s wounds up, with a strong and slow motion, just to let us take a glance into these hidden fields of the human mind and soul. Just to consider after we have seen it there, what makes sense and what can happiness give us?
Time?
Hope?
Advantage?
For how long and to whom and why, and where and above all, for what?! Existence is a process, which begins at the moment of birth, it counts down and awaits, to throw our bodies and minds into the disease of passing or sudden death. It builds the mounds of joy, happiness, value and intelligence up, all of that which cannot give advantage against and cannot keep pace with time. Thus it falls back into its own pathetic existence. That’s life; no more, no less and nothing can change it. Neither a family, pleasure, children or success, nor honour, tranquillity or intoxication. It’s so weird and painful to bury our beloved, that I wish I were in the coffin instead of them. And the pieces of soil keep on falling upon – we are watching the children of our acquintances in sight, they have just been infants and now they are running around, watching our parents whose visages are constantly bound in woeful wrinkles by this weary life. We continue to think: did it make sense? They are not and I’m not happy either, then what for? What is there to suffer for? Why the fucking hell is this existence, when it’s sense is limited only to the present and it leaves its marks only in books and upon crosses, while it’s memories are merely preserved in mind or on paper, or nowhere…
Well, kind of these and similar questions are brought about by the atmospheric danse macabre of Benighted in Sodom, again and again. The answers are missing, since those must be given by us to ourselves. If not now, then 30 years later. If not then, then even later, but every intelligent extant puts this question up once in his life, that does it make sense and why is it. Death can be fearful and and frustrating, one can fall into everydays instead of dealing with it, one can escape into his job, whores, guys, girls, drugs and alcohol, into affection and love. One can live to the present, but as well as after the act, after the purification, after the dream and relationship, nothing remains but emptiness. The space of our lives extends to the same; this makes Man pathetic and small-minded.
/English translation by Vorst/
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