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The power of music knows no bounds…
Just two chords and a voice are enough to convey something that others with a thousand musical tricks couldn't achieve in a thousand years.
Music as a tool of dissent against everything and everyone: hypocricies of this society, hypocrisies of the Catholic Church, false moralism, indifference, ambition. All this is conveyed by Darkthrone in this album: just the cover and the singing on this album are enough to instill evil and sadness in each of us.
The drums sound like when you have a severe migraine, guitar plays erratically as if using a grater, demonic, raspy voice, deep... malevolent.
The misadventures and sadness of a lifetime wouldn't be enough to reach the level of these 40 minutes of music… emotions… negative emotions but still emotions… this CD makes you think about life… another side of life.
Listening to this CD makes you want to scream and send everything and everyone to hell, isolating yourself in complete solitude, carving out your own inner space to vent the anger and pain that this album oozes. Death and destruction… this is what you feel like doing after listening to this album.
This is music, emotion, instinct, nothing calculated… the perfect expression of an interiority in this case troubled… few bands in
all of music manage to express their message as Darkthrone have done… and at the end of the album… all melancholic and alone, one feels like saying: It could have been all different…
Tracklist Lyrics Samples and Videos
01 Transilvanian Hunger (06:09)
Transilvanian Hunger
the mountain so Cold
Cold Cold Soul Cold
Your hands are cruel careful ... pale ...
To Haunt, to Haunt forever at Night
Take me can't you feel the Call
Embrace Me Eternally in your daylight slumber
To be Draped by the Shadow of your Morbid Palace
ohh, Hate Living... The only heat is warm blood
So Pure... So Cold
Transilvanian Hunger
Hail to the True, intense vampires
A story made for Divine fulfillment
To be the Ones breathing a Wind of Sorrow
Sorrow and Fright the Dearest Katharsis
Beautiful Evil Self to be the Morbid Count
A part of a Pact that is Delightfully immortal
Feel the Call Freeze you with the Uppermost Desire
Transilvanian Hunger, my Mountain is Cold
So Pure... Evil, Cold
Transilvanian Hunger
03 Skald av Satans sol (04:28)
Tåken tetner
Mørket faller
Ondskap Slumrer
Skogen kaller
Her ute I Dyrets domene
Gjennom en dyster, Gusten Skog
Engler løper, engler flyr
Vekk fra min egen kikegaard
Jeg star under en kald vind
Taken letter fra englers flukt
Jeg drikker fra Manens Kalde
Bleke lys og hylder Satans sol
En Grusom Ondskap siver inn og fyller kropp og sjel
En himmel av Daudinger
Tortur og Hat
Tåken tetner
Mørket faller
Ondskap Slumrer
Skogen kaller
La meg for evig tjene de toogsytti evig falne
I den Kolde Mørke brønn av de Slue sorte
Verdig utropes jeg som den Uhellige treenighets Skald
Når helvete en gang kaller, er det ingen vei tilbake
Tåken tetner
Mørket faller
Ondskap Slumrer
Skogen kaller
05 Graven tåkeheimens saler (04:59)
Naberg reiste seg, når ved Mannahemens garden
Økstid, Sverdtid, ufred var der ikke - dog var er byllepestens plager
Ingen gjestet frender, ingen gjestet prest
Ingen drog til byen, uten lanse og til hest
I Opphavs tider sang de sanger, for seg selv og sine fedre
I dag synges kun de sanger, som skal gjøre morgendagen bedre
Sanger for den neste, ingen sanger for den Beste
Svik og løgn har fatt sin plass, I midgard jotneses palass
En mann vandret rolig, sikker, stolt der mellom hus
Han ferdedes blant folk, han trakket tyredd der blant mus
Flere hundre menn, han gjestet hver kald natt
Han var enøyd, høy og tynn, og på sitt hode bar han hatt
Ensom mann han vandret, over bivsrot en kald morgen
Han ristet på sitt hode, over menneskenes tap
For de sikret seg en plass, I en ufødt tragisk himmel
For de vandret nor og ned, for de rotnet I Hels fred
06 I en hall med flesk og mjød (05:12)
I en gammel ask - hang en Naskald gubbe,
Under en Svart himmel - hvorfra Regnet fosset ned.
Ingen for dithen - for a hugge liket ned,
for ingen kunne vite - hvorhen hengingen fant sted
Ensom mann han var - Da han dro til Valfars plass,
han ankom iført Brynje - til et storslått Grimt Palass.
Tusen år var gått - siden forrige mann kom dit.
de gråt av Dyster glede - da en sínn kom endelig.
Nor for det Trolske gapet - var en takeheim dypt ned.
Rekker av Nors sínner - vandret dithen nor og ned.
Ingen manglet Grav - og ingen manglet sínner,
for de for av elle og sott - dit til Kuldeheimens senger.
Kun fa av vaktens barn - kom til Farens rike rad,
for listig svik blant dem - førte flestemann dypt ned.
Dog kan man híre sangen - hver en Hedensk gammel høytid
for ja enna festes det - blant De trofaste Ods Sønner.
[Skrevet for Darkthrone av Greifi Grishnackh 31/12 - 1993 a.Y.P.S.]
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Other reviews
By Tompa
This is true Norwegian black metal!
Not having this CD is to miss out on something that you simply don’t hear anymore these days!
By thezed
Listening to this album in complete solitude I didn’t think about burning churches or killing someone, I simply thought about myself, no hate, no love, not even apathy, I simply traveled with my mind and that’s it.
This album has to be listened to at least once in a lifetime; some will discard it afterward, but others will discover a new path.
By Vehemens
Black Metal is not a genre like the others, it is truth.
Nocturno Culto’s guitar is colder and more chilling than the snow that settles on the peaks of the Norwegian forest pines.
