Confessor
Unraveled

After fourteen years, the entity Confessor returns to the limelight.

Death itself has bothered to provide the sad premise for the birth of this "Unraveled." Ivan Edward Colon, founding member of the band, passed away on February 15, 2002. Lifelong friends, after years of inactivity, decided to pick up their instruments again for a commemorative concert. The step towards releasing new material was a short one.

Confessor has been reborn through death.

This is not the soundtrack of the Apocalypse, simply because the Apocalypse has already passed over the heads of the American group.

The litany of Confessor emerges from the middle of nowhere and returns there, climbing endless scales. Syncopated, as if bitten by a poisonous and yet unknown animal, the structure of the songs unreservedly digs along the walls of the brain. Progressive rhythms plundered by riffs of clear Doom matrix support the liturgical singing of Scott Jeffreys.

It is necessary to accept evil as an actual possibility of being. The price of the freedom of the Self which finds its sublimation in Unraveled.

For the protection of many, the creature on the cover, twisted to the point of spasm, seems to warn about the contents of the work. More effective than any Parental Advisory, just as Confessor is more effective than any other band in today's Doom scene in representing the immeasurable tension between Self and Absolute. The self-aware impotence that tears us apart, without escape.

In the end, we are nothing but this: insurmountable ontological dualism.