I’m writing this down to memorialize the truths that I’ve recently uncovered, but let it also serve as a warning. A foul conspiracy is afoot in the Pacific Northwest, and I’m afraid that the knowledge I possess has already set in motion forces that will ultimately bring about my
death doom. Read back through my journal entries and the evidence will be plain as day. Not two fortnights ago, I made an entry about a sinister force known as Nightfell and its collection of six tracks of 35 minutes of death doom. I thought nothing of this until encountering the vile beast Sempiternal Dusk who wielded 6 tracks of death doom clocking in at 36 minutes. Strange, to be sure, but surely no cause for alarm. Behold Mortiferum and Disgorged from Psychotic Depths—6 tracks and 36 minutes of mind-altering death doom. Six. Six. Six. The first two entities preside over the city of Portland—close, but still two hours away. But Mortiferum inhabits the realm of Olympia, Washington and could easily reach my house in under an hour while obeying all traffic laws. They’re closing in. This entry may be my last.
Disgorged is Mortiferum‘s first full-length assault on the frail minds of humanity, and it uses the oppressive combination of vicious, cavernous vocals, gargantuan guitars, and powerful drums to weave its web of madness. Heed my words, and do not listen to the embedded track. Its doom intro will induce “Funereal Hallucinations,” subduing you into paralysis before an Incantation is spoken, conjuring a diabolical bulldozer riff that will besquish you, body and soul1 and leave no chance for an Autopsy. The fumes of your dying body will begin their “Putrid Ascension” with more doom, before the blast beats and squealing guitars arrive to grind your corpse into an unrecognizable pulp. Memories from your former life may appear while classical guitar interlude “Anamnesis” soothes with its beautiful melody. But alas, it is merely a respite from torment sent forth by an uncaring cosmos before it dooms you to live out your eternity as a “Faceless Apparition,” a nebulous cloud of nothingness slowly crawling about the dark corners of the universe.
If you’re beginning to think that I’m simply spinning an “Archaic Vision of Despair,” I cannot blame you. The tropes that I’ve described are as old as metal itself, yet that doesn’t render their effects any less potent. From the moment you hear Tony Wolfe’s distorted, vibrating bass strings on “Archaic,” your fate will be sealed. Soon Max Bowman and Chase Slaker will emerge from the psychotic depths to shred your mind with riffs and leads not of this world. Slaker is not to be trusted, for his twisted mind vomited forth that terrible artwork—NO! Do not look upon it! It looks back! Bowman shares vocal duties with drummer Alex Mody and their reverberating utterances construct an “Inhuman Effigy” too horrible to comprehend.
Perhaps the most frightening aspect of this terrible encounter is the clarity with which it hits the listener despite originating in another infernal dimension. The drums are the most notable example as they lack the industry standard modern production and instead hit with the organic impact of a genuine thunderstorm. There’s room in the mix for every instrument and note, and it demands that you turn the volume up, and you will—voluntarily or otherwise. Any of the five proper tracks have the potential to derange your sanity, but the mid-album combo of “Putrid Ascension” and “Funereal Hallucinations” contains so much mass that you will slowly disintegrate as your atoms are pulled one by one across the event horizon.
I’m beginning to think that perhaps I’ve been a little paranoid. I’m now comforted by a warm presence and a voice in my head telling me that everything will be quite fine, and that there is no conspiracy to be found. Silly me! How could I have possibly begun to believe that a malevolent being resides deep beneath the mountains and forests of Oregon and Washington, inspiring a horde of like-minded death doomers? Pay no mind that Mortiferum means “deadly,” “death bringing,” or “brutal death.” A mere jest, I’m sure! I feel so much better about things that I’m not even concerned about the fact that the reflection of my face on my computer screen is slowly but steadily disappearing. Farewell, friends! I go forth to embrace my apparitional destiny!