As I’ve said before, Morbid Angel changed my life. I listened to thrash and heavy metal in my impressionable years, but never clicked with anything more extreme. Then one day over winter break in high school, I stumbled upon the music video for “Where the Slime Live.” Life was never the same. The criminally underrated Domination opened the doors to old-school death metal and shoved me through them headfirst. Shortly thereafter, 1993’s Covenant cemented its place as one of my favorite albums. Half my life later, after countless hours of death metal listening, my appreciation for Covenant has only blossomed. Thoughtful and uncontainable, Covenant is one of the greatest metal records ever written.
Morbid Angel’s spectacular performances make Covenant an unforgettable journey. All six trillion riffs on the album are fun as hell. Opener “Rapture” kicks it off with a monstrous riff worth losing an eardrum for, before whisking you on a blistering tour through many more of all shapes and sizes. Even the worst tracks here are Leviathans. No one remembers Covenant for “Blood on My Hands,” but the song’s frantic energy would make it a choice cut anywhere else. Moreover, Morbid Angel’s technical talent outclasses most of their peers, and it shows. Trey Azagthoth’s unmistakable guitar work combines abrasive riffs with squealing melodies that stand apart from his contemporaries. Aided by bends and slides at perfect times, Azagthoth excels at both dead simple attacks (“Pain Divine”) and technical spectacles (“Sworn to the Black”). Meanwhile, Pete Sandoval’s legendary drumming impresses through its precision and its variety. Sandoval’s stalwart rhythms define highlights like “Rapture,” while flourishes like the hi-hat antics of “Sworn to the Black” and the drum jam on “Lions [sic] Den” add character. Every piece of Covenant bolsters its megaton of force and makes it a thrilling listen.
Even among the deluge of early-1990s death metal classics, Covenant’s frenzied medley of styles stands out. The four-minute masterpiece “Rapture” brims with everything from explosive death metal fury to crushing Autopsy riffs, striking a perfect balance. Similarly, the sludgy opening of “World of Shit (The Promised Land)” and the blazing array of riffs introducing “Pain Divine” sound worlds apart, but are equally hard-hitting and equally memorable. Even the more experimental parts of Covenant are a pleasure. Morbid Angel’s ability to smelt gold from unexpected ingredients shines through the tech death flirtations of “Sworn to the Black” and the punkish fun and 70s hard rock stylings of “Angel of Disease.” These strengths aren’t merely clinical. Rather, Covenant taps into Immolation’s talent for painting an eerie scenery without ever losing the listener. Covenant’s insistence on darting among a flurry of ideas while nailing them all makes it impossible to put down.
Despite Covenant’s restlessness, it reads like a classic novel because of its cohesive writing. Covenant is full of plot twists, with constant tempo changes and riffs that shapeshift when you least expect it. But every U-turn is seamlessly integrated, often through Sandoval’s brilliant drum-led transitions (“Pain Divine,” “World of Shit”). Morbid Angel’s compositions unfold like stories and grip you along the way. A stunning example is “Lions Den,” vocalist and bassist David Vincent’s writing credit. The track’s emotional cadence evolves impeccably alongside its lyrics, from anger (“Christians standing breathless”) to ominous resignation (“Judgment has passed”) to violence (“Kill them all”). “God of Emptiness,” Covenant’s most iconic song, deserves special mention. Azagthoth’s snaking guitars, Vincent’s roars, and Sandoval’s off-kilter drums journey in lockstep through unusual rhythms and melodies that are impossible to describe and impossible to forget. While “God of Emptiness” doesn’t inspire religious rapture as skillfully as Behemoth’s “O Father O Satan O Sun!” or Madonna’s “Like a Prayer,” its second half always draws me into its hypnotic fervor. Even LiveWire’s Under Attack! can’t match the stellar songwriting and replay value of Covenant.
As Covenant celebrates its thirtieth birthday today while I inexorably approach mine, I take solace in knowing that even as I age, Covenant never will. It’s a miracle that Morbid Angel followed up Altars of Madness and Blessed Are the Sick with a record that has better riffs, more variety, and better writing. Covenant is a pinnacle of its genre and a shining example of thoughtfully-composed death metal. However, I can’t claim to have a dispassionate perspective on Morbid Angel. I’m thankful for the indelible mark they’ve left on my music taste and, by extension, my life. I am who I am because of Covenant, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
