Daemonarch
Hermeticum

The Daemonarch appeared and simultaneously disappeared from the European "Black" scene in 1998 with this "Hermeticum", never to be heard from again.
Put this way, it might be an apt description of one of the myriad underground realities that constitute a constellation of the extreme genre, especially if Scandinavian, yet there's more than one characteristic that makes this band special.

Certainly not the sound and the "evil" part of the record, which, to be clear, is common and canonical for those times and for that specific genre, but rather for its organization chart: Daemonarch, in fact, was nothing more than the most blasphemous and sacrilegious incarnation of another band, a pillar of European Heavy Metal, that is Moonspell, and they, naturally, did not refer to a Nordic reality but rather a Southern European, specifically Portuguese one.
The members, in fact, are none other than Fernando Ribeiro, Ricardo Amorim, Sérgio Crestana, and Pedro Paixao, who, probably taken by an uncontrollable urge to overdo it and give in to their more brutal and morbid soul, put together this project that took shape thanks to the attention of Century Media and which can only be classified as "Black Metal".

The nine songs on this album, in fact, draw heavily from the anguished and ever-varied foundational terrain of the Moonspell themselves, crafting it into a formula that has nothing original, which surely must have made those accustomed to listening to works of much greater depth in this field smile, things like Burzum, Mayhem, etc., but it is certainly commendable and interesting, upon rehearing the album, to understand and clearly grasp the influences that have made the Lusitanians a band certainly out of the ordinary, yet one that can undoubtedly excite and astonish with every release, not least that of "Memorial", the work that perhaps, nowadays, comes closest to this Hermeticum, at least and only for the way Ribeiro, the histrionic, sings.

Ferocious screams and frantic drumming at certain moments (here entrusted to a well-programmed drum machine), evil whispers and claustrophobic comings and goings for compositions that in terms of songwriting spill into the most misanthropic, cruel, and blasphemous side of the singer who, at the time of the album's release, claimed it was the result of his youthful compositions, and therefore certainly lacking in sophistication and ease but which, executed when the Moonspell were already riding the wave of their success, can only resonate with the great class the band has always been known for. "Lex Talionis" and "Samyaza" are more than clear examples. Whirling pace, scraping guitars tending towards Black minimalism (though not really oriented in that sense, credit, or discredit, to the more than good production), Ribeiro's voice that would animate even a pile of rocks, a belligerent and easy-to-memorize refrain, and everything rests on levels of "already heard", "already assimilated", but which is nonetheless good and admirable.

But it is not only in the grim tirades that this album is appreciated; there are within it a host of episodes that display a substantial Heavy base and exploit it fully, even managing to intersperse, in the middle, solos and references to the epicness typical of the most tribal Moonspell, as in "Nine Angles" and "Corpus Hermeticum".
Sure, associating some sense of belonging to this CD is like discovering a sort of warm water. It is very clear that, albeit wanting to craft a violent and uncompromising album, the attitudes and instrumental rounds it relies on cannot be anything but the canonical and distinctive ones of the mother band, and perhaps, if the Daemonarch had pressed harder in this sense, then they would have certainly achieved a more appreciable and less sketchy result in some senses, without the latent feeling of having only put forward some cues and then not have been able to translate them into completed and enjoyable drafts.
But, as I said before, the attitude is all there and can be well judged if you are staunch fans of Moonspell; there are no shortage of truly oppressive and claustrophobic episodes that immediately refer to the murkiest and maniacal scene of Black, as well presented in "Call From The Grave", "The Seventh Daemonarch", and in the atmospheric and satanic "Hymn To Lucifer", which among the more "classic" episodes is certainly the head and the whole heart, while always remaining balanced between Mediterranean epicness (which so much recalls certain interludes from "Irreligious") and icy nocturnal moods in wind-swept forests and the misanthropic nihilism of Ribeiro and company.

Finally, if you are certainly admirers of Moonspell and get anxious with each of their releases, then this will be an album you will cherish and listen to again with pleasure, if instead, you are fans of Black Metal, especially that known as "True Norwegian", then give a smirk, satanic of course, go back to dusting off your old idols, and move on.