Blasphemophagher
Atomic Infested Carnage

Foreword: this review was not written by Alcest, but by an evil entity that possessed him and calls itself Brutal Impalement in a Bleeding Night of Morbid Bestiality; meanwhile, good Alcest has retired to listen to the romantic, melancholic, and effeminate music that, as some anonymous charlatan among you will agree, is more befitting of his unfortunate and apparently inappropriate "nickname."

From Chernobyl with fury come these gruesome Blasphemophagher, a very Italian combo practicing a beastly and ruthless form of Metal of Death (essentially a mix of Thrash, Death, and Black à la Beherit, Blasphemy, Sarcofago, and company) that will surely delight the most refined tastes (?) in the matter. With just a handful of songs, these fanatical barbarians simply ridicule a good 75% of the bands currently around that proclaim themselves, in my opinion rather aimlessly, "old-school-decay-blood-congealed-vomit-nuns-dead-bands" but who, as in the case of the utterly useless Bestial Mockery or the utterly negligible Black Witchery, do nothing but produce photocopy records following the tedious pattern "blast beat, growl, and mosquito guitar that doesn't change even with Autan".

Our guys, on the other hand, offer a decidedly over-the-top performance, and from the radioactive preamble "Nuclear Storm Intro," they unleash a nuclear storm with accompanying acid rain that takes no prisoners, thanks to the devastating and relentless drumming of Necrovomiterror (a very charming name!), raw and minimal ultra-80s riffs that stick in your head effectively, and the cavernous and brutal growl of R.R. Unholy Bastard and Phosgene Wargas (completing the picture is the guitarist Atomic Incenerator of Necronuclear Collapse and Black Winds, they seem like the bastard godchildren of Blasphemy). Intro plus four intense songs with the luscious addition of three covers of the above-mentioned sonic monuments, appearing in order as "Sex, Drinks and Metal," the well-known "Gods of War" and the brutal "Grave Desecrator," played with furious aplomb and unheard-of malice, which, however, do not overshadow the previous tracks in the slightest, and that's no small feat.

So support these three very Italian individuals, who with this record represent a good reason to induce the metalheads of the beautiful country to desist from their incorrigible foreign infatuation, a plague to be eradicated if we really want to talk about an Italian scene, although in my opinion this is an utopian goal anyway.

Greetings from Brutal Impalement in a Bleeding Night of Morbid Bestiality, while poor pansy Alcest is crying bitter tears for not having been able to write this review due to a congenital defect inherent in his pathetic name like an "ossobuco giraculi," which does not allow him to review records so elite and enigmatic, milestones of the unknown whose intellectual depths can only be explored by wise and enlightened beings.

Good morning, and, in case I don’t see you, good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight.