Like a candle flickering in that deep, cold dungeon hole, horizontal — dim but luminescent as a lightning bug, limp. A candle that’s moving more than just by a chill breeze: pacing. Smoke rising out from the gnarled, crusted lip, gently caressing the charred moss. Incantations gurgling in throws of grim doom, shadowed upon noir kept outlines of Helmut nodding. Roots and chains entombing a lockedness with nature. Attune with Earth’s center. The center of this rot. LORD OF CARRION arises from an unlit cauldron bubbling acid, antifreeze, and chili peppers. Reign the outcast of ritual worship.
Somewhere in the enigmatic ether where the ooze that resides between the likes of Lustmord, SPK, and Coil, there dwells the LA-based act, Hasufel. Shrouded in a cloak of mystery, project leader Helmut warps ice-cold dark ambient and squelching synth-driven cold wave with a chaotic strand of noisy nü-neo folk on new release, Lord Of Carrion. The output, which has spent five years coming to fruition in an abyssal nook, comes crawling out as a filthy, sprawling beast already full grown with wild, twisted limbs and a horned head, itself nodding ever so slightly to the more obscure side of black metal. Dynamic, strange, and dense; Hasufel has a specific intent to coat the listener with a stench of melancholy while creeping them out with a fantastic, obscene blackened magick. Not casual listening, the sound herein will be satisfactory to a selective guild, but will ultimately draw a cult-like following of heathens with a glean in their eye to match their daggers. The new release will speak to them with messages of decay… pestilence… nightmare… and ultimate doom. Do not listen casually, listen with a desire to lay flayed open and pray to whatever deity you cry out to when the night blanks out the stars.
