Dearthe

“Atmospheric black metal has long been relegated to the woods and to the peaks – to the frigid north. Neglected has been another form of desolation. While the abyss has many names, whether nature offers its lush arms of shelter or the lament of desolation can be heard across the cruel cityscapes, we think cold and bleak. When fused with the depressive and suicidal musings of life’s cruel hand, we seek shelter in ColdWorld’s snow-laden shores, smell the whiff of Silencer’s smoking gun, or indulge in Lifelover’s melodramatic puppetry. We typically don’t think desert, desiccation, or aridity; Austere does.” Sand-tyricon.