Album Review: Necroccultus - The Afterdeath Blackness
Reviewed by Sam Jones
Sometimes all it takes to create interest in a record is album art. That was the case for myself concerning Necroccultus’ new album, The Afterdeath Blackness. Formed back in 2003 out of Guanajuato, Mexico, Necroccultus have been in the game far longer than I’d expected, releasing their first studio album Encircling The Mysterious Necrorevelation in 2005. For the next twenty years their catalogue would be comprised of Splits and EPs until 2013 where there would be a seven year silence. But come 2020, a new Demo and Split, it looked like things seemed promising once more, until the announcement of this record, their first studio full length in twenty-one years, sporting a revamped logo, reshaped band roster, with sole remaining member Isaías Huerta on vocals and signed on with Terror From Hell Records. This strongly appears like a rebirth for the band as they prepare for black and death metal onslaught, penned in for an April 24th release date. I’m always fascinated by records such as this, following up a substantial gap in albums, and so I was ready to pick it apart.
I like that Necroccultus don’t throw us into the deep end entirely without some means of flotation; the opening track is this mounting and building piece where pieces of the band come together over its duration as the power inherent finds its crescendo. But even then as the first real track begins the band demonstrate that was merely a fledgling of their arsenal, ripping off a slew of riffs and vocal bellows that would bring the greatest demons to quailing. Their sound is muddy, their performance echoes on record, and while they could fill it out they’ve chosen not to creating this subterranean, dismal space where anything could be hiding. As their tempo increases it only becomes more frantic, more desperate, as Necroccultus only intensify the compression brought to bear on us.
The guitar work, rapid-fire and malevolent as it is, possesses a particularly baritone presence as riffs and licks are ripped off the fretboard. The overall production has leant this record a sickening and clinging aesthetic like old moss that won’t surrender its domain. While the riffs, low in the mix, remain close to the album’s foundation, Necroccultus still made sure they could be easily heard and followed, and therefore gave their riffs the lacerated, shredding edge not unlike serrated blades. However, beneath even these riffs you’ll find the basslines chugging along where they’re providing cushioning at a bedrock level. Removing guitar work entirely periodically we hear the bass for all it embodies: thick, disparate, unapologetic. There’s nothing of bounce to the bass herein, just another layering of unrepentant strength that leaves nothing alive.
Seemingly making up for the twenty-one year gap between records, The Afterdeath Blackness doesn’t stop for anything. The instant a track begins you’re at the complete mercy of the band as riffs and blast beats and bellowing vocals barrel down your way without end. As varying segments of songwriting occur, even those where the band should typically slow to allow for some break, their pace never truly wanes. Sure, there are times where their tempo eases to allow for bridging sequences between the slaughter, but it never outright feels like they’re choosing to slow down. It only ends when a track does, and upon starting anew the chaos revives thoroughly. Guitars and drums challenge each other to a ravenous medley, culminating in death metal devouring itself.
One way you can describe Necroccultus as is barely controlled carnage. The further you dive into the record the greater your realisation that it’s hardly contained, it’s bursting at the seams as it continuously destroys itself and everything around. Much of their performance here is played at breakneck speed and as aforementioned hardly slows down for a moment, but the result is a record where that said intensity actively rips apart as each instrumental and vocal element vies for their time in the spotlight. One can almost see each member fighting for their time, overpowering the other, and yet it’s that resulting carnage imbuing us with the desire to return. Despite the wake of their rampancy Necroccultus can be followed and structure discerned. The Afterdeath Blackness is a record barely holding on, and its music herein a byproduct of songwriting depicting the most heinous death throes.
In conclusion, The Afterdeath Blackness is a record that refuses to stop for anything and nothing but your dismembered corpse will satisfy their bloodlust. Reminiscent to death metal acts from the nineties like Angelcorpse where intensity and carnage was the sole goal, Necroccultus send us to hell and back with unwavering ferocity. It’s the kind of album where you know what you’re getting but if this is the vibe you’re after, you’ll be grinning ear to ear within the first seconds. I hope the next album isn’t too long a wait as Necroccultus show promise delivering songwriting unmarred by constraints or modern sensibilities. They don’t want a well organised piece the audience can go down to pick apart, they want utter capitulation, total war. And that’s what you get.
