“It seems to me that there are really only two doors that need to be sought in the hunt for black metal of real quality. One leads to a well whose mechanism is complex and unconventional. But, with patience and a deft touch, it reveals a spring of challenging and creative potential. The other leads to a charred room whose blackened walls contain a particularly fecal Mark Z, resplendent in bullet belt and lobbing liberal handfuls of sickle cell anemia with feral abandon. Greece’s Akrotheism predominantly stand in the former, but somehow manage to channel a little of both.” Two corners, one trvth.
