Album Review: Panzerchrist - Maleficium Part 2
Reviewed by Eric Clifford
Panzerchrist, now there’s a name for you. For me, they’re one of those heard-of-but-not-heard squads within the thronging legions betwixt black and death, some of one, some of the other, indentured to neither in the whole. It’s a crowded field, but so far as Panzerchrist go there’s been an unnatural, eldritch life puppeteering the bones since ’93; surely they must be doing something right then? Besides, this a nook in the musical cupboard for which I hold a great fondness, especially when the genre distils to the coarse, base savagery at it’s black heart and chomps with feverish spite at the world as war metal. So I was optimistic going in, not necessarily expectant of a classic but certainly hoping for an ear perforation and at least a civilised amount of internal bleeding by the end of it.
Fate is fickle but today at least she smiles. When “Witchfinder General” kicks in like an amphetamine surge with vicious descending melody lines and relentless blastbeats I knew my hopes were vindicated. The vocals are less merely sung than they are javelined into your forehead at close range, crackling into harsh barbs of white noise at the edges. I thought, when i first heard the song, that if the rest of the album was this incensed I probably should’ve put riot gear on before listening to it. And for a good slab of the time, it does maintain this maniacal degree of pissed-offness. The remorseless death metal conquest of “Suffer my Fury” with it’s kick-snare beat and bottom string pentatonic tremolos plays like a wet chunk torn from the flank of Deicide’s nastier moments. Elsewhere, “Catalyst of Chaos” lays down a thorned bed of caltrops in the form of full-auto kick drums on top of which bulky powerchord riffs mulch and grind away. And through all of it, pulsing like arteries through this grim scaffolding, the scalding, wolfen howl of Sonja, somewhere between a forlorn gargoyle wail and a choir of knifed saints.
There are times though when Panzerchrist’s reach somewhat exceeds their grasp. Some of the longer tracks in particular bleed some of their impact out through sheer tenacity alone, persisting on past the point at which it might have made more sense to curtail the chase. Take “Hex Maleficium Pex” for example; there’s a great deal to like about it, in particular the elementary principle imparted by the obscenely catchy roar of “THE ONLY GOOD WITCH IS A DEAD WIIIIIIITCH”, and the melodicism of 2.07 to around 3.28 which tilts between fluttering, insensate carnival lead lines and a piercing solo like arrows through azure skies before dovetailing back into the verse riff with megaton force. Equally though, it feels as though the song could’ve ended perfectly well around this point – the electronic ambience that follows it at 4.53 doesn’t seem to add much worth it’s inclusion, and while the closing section of the track at 6.00 and on is cool, could it not simply been attached at the 4.10 mark to ease some of the bloat while also showcasing the best of the song’s strengths?
Latter songs on the album generally seem less inclined to lean on the slash and burn pre-emptive nuclear strike songwriting philosophy of the initial songs, though there is still copious fire and fury to be found. “Black Mirror” nails a threatening doom introduction to psychopathic OSDM tremelo riffs, whereas “The Descent” trebuchets me back the “Domination” Era of Morbid Angel’s output (compare “The Descent” with “Dawn of the Angry”; the similarities don’t so much stand out as full on disrobe and flop their wedding vegetables in your breakfast). None of these songs are bad, though I do find myself wistfully recalling 30 minutes ago when the album was at my throat like a pitbull with unresolved emotional issues. The rage doesn’t ever dissolve, though it does temper down into smouldering anger ruminations, more of a mind to plot horrific violence than midway through actually unleashing catastrophic beatings.
Overall though I think my initial optimism was both well founded and amply rewarded. Lord knows, my foresight is not always so exemplary; the penis of consequences is seldom lubricated, and it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve stuck myself with something unforgivably heinous, but in this instance good fortune has prevailed. “Maleficium - Part 2” – niggles aside – thunders forth on a flaming chariot of ebon steel. If either black or death metal interest you, the bleak benedictions of Panzerchrist should hold joy abounding. Now do please excuse me a moment – I spy Witches ‘pon the horizon, and as we have already established,
THE ONLY GOOD
WITCH
IS A DEAD
WIIIIIIIIIIITCH!!!!!!!
