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Rating: This is one of the best episodes ever in black metal; "Si Monvmentvm Reqvires, Circvumspice" (2004), born from the minds of the enigmatic and almost anonymous Deathspell Omega of Norma Evangelium Diaboli, is undoubtedly a masterpiece of the genre despite the evident avant-garde and, above all, religious influences. After the first two albums, which were certainly good but still too raw and faithful to the classic black metal standards, the band, as declared by Mikko Aspa himself in the interview on Ajna Offensive, decided to break away from that musical trend, which was by then overpopulated and well-trodden for fifteen years by countless groups who, over time, have become nothing more than a caricature of themselves. "SMRC" is therefore a turning point towards the definitive establishment of a genius and refined band capable of going beyond the classic and now worn-out traditional schemes.
It is a (long) scalding and at the same time chilling album; every single track manages to create its own sacred and sulfurous atmosphere although the instruments used are the same as always: guitar, bass, drums, and vocals, with Gregorian chants present in three or four episodes. The riffs are sometimes sharp and lashing, other times round, full, and soft like playdough; in the first case, we can mention songs like "Hetoimasia" and the memorable title track, the former perhaps more contained but equipped with a main riff that almost recalls the tolling of a bell and characterized by a relentless and increasingly swirling development, while the latter is directly slammed in our face without too much courtesy, like a red-hot iron bar: all the power is driven by a drummer as furious as he is versatile and never boring, concluding in the last minutes where a solemn, rotten, and sharp arpeggio takes over along with Mikko Aspa's profound and abyssal growls, reproduced in such a way as to create distant furious echoes, grinding the air with obsessive phrasing.
"Blessed are the Dead Whiche Dye in the Lorde" is creamy and heavy like a succulent cyanide éclair and in the same way "Drink the Devil's Blood" presents itself, conducted by gloomy yet always rich guitar strumming without becoming monotonous. An aspect not to be forgotten, but rather essential for the album itself, is the atmospheric component: the opening track "First Prayer" takes care not to immediately showcase the band's high potential but focuses only on introducing the listener into a hallucinogenic gallery of black contemplation (here too, choruses are present); "Second Prayer" is one of the most suffocating and visionary tracks I have ever heard: miasmas of mephitic hissing arpeggios, whispers of tormented deliriums, pulsating and booming drums, and suddenly we find ourselves in a massive damp limestone cave, contaminated by bubbling puffs of lethal gas; and with the hazy "Third Prayer" you'll have the chance to hear a true prayer, well-paced and periodically interrupted by choruses chanting "Amen".
But the true highlight is found in "Carnal Malefactor", an exhausting feverish marathon with a fetidly celebratory air interrupted for a good 4-5 long minutes by somber Gregorian chants, essential for the success of an album of this kind. Five more tracks are missing, but I think I've been quite lengthy already.
A commendation goes to the lyrics that DsO have composed with extreme meticulousness: on this point, (heated?) debates are never lacking, given the theme is precisely Satanism, the image of the devil, and its relationship (in metaphysical terms) with man and the divine. If you ever have the whimsical idea of reading something, don't expect empty invocations or gratuitous blasphemies spewed without rhyme or reason; rather, you'll deal with long, well-studied lyrics written in archaic English, with numerous reflections accompanied by Latin phrases and citations from Bible passages. Opposing opinions will certainly abound, yet I, even without believing in the existence of certain entities, personally found this approach of the group very brilliant and absolutely original (read the interview to believe).
In conclusion: five solid, full stars to this black gem that impressed me profoundly in every aspect.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
10 Jubilate Deo (O Be Joyful in the Lord) (06:07)
From the Thirteen Apostles men
Pregnant nymphets hast they become
Defiled with divine faeces;
Despicable rot, tortured flesh
Those eyes have witnessed.
Organic procreation, mind-intromission;
there comes the salvation
Pubescent vaginas obstructed with the redeemer's holy essence
Humanity reduced to its supreme worthlessness;
Children under His will, Ethic fulfilled
Those eyes were deceived.
Little children, praise the Lord,
Praise ye the Lord!
This is the day which He hath made;
all will rejoice and be glad in it
Born with the ability of begetting
Only but One gift were she granted
To excrete a new humanity unwanted
Reluctantly she - woman - loves the god of a creation within
Those eyes have binned.
Praise the Lord in His benevolence
For the disadvantage and their simplicity
Rape, incest, and insouciance
Of a magnificent power if unforeseen despondency
Those eyes lied zealously
Praise Him for His blessed act,
Praise ye the Lord!
This is the day which He hath made;
all will rejoice and be glad in it
Innocence sacrificed and heaven denied
Iniquity divine - no repentance - over mankind
Mind-raped, self-devoured, empty god-eyed
Transgression coercive, Redemption never to be found
Those eyes were blind
Under the altar of cannibalism
Man hast (thou) confessed the spiritual schism
And without pride mourned the loss of freedom,
Our blessed Lord have condemned you to martyrdom
Those eyes saw wisdom
Praise the Lord, for He is glorious;
Praise ye the Lord!
This is the day which He hath made;
all will rejoice and be glad in it
Inter spem et metum
Inter spem et metum
Inter spem et metum
Inter spem et metum
Inter spem et metum
Inter spem et metum
Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord,
praise ye the Lord.
11 Carnal Malefactor (11:45)
Below the lid of a vast rounded monument
Trickling of gristly vestiges and whacked hopes
Enhanced by the horrible excess of fetid exhalation
And uterine strangulation by the wreaths
Of the herds astray, arid in despair, blessed
With dilated flakes of fire, slowly wafting down...
Say, what does a maternal heart feel when merely
Vinegar stills your child's thirst?
You'd implore to harbour his torment in your chest...
To make this burden yours, but... Sacrilege!
Who are you, harlot, to interfere with His emerald will
When even your glance should never leave the soil?
There resides the fusion, there is the nucleus
Angel prick and holy semen,
And a woman genuflecting an aroused beast of burden alike
Seduced by the father and seducing the son
There resides the fusion, there is the nucleus
A phallic communion that sanctifies interior wastelands
He that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption
Carnal malefactor, rub your sterile wriggling womb
With a candle in reverential contemplation
And give voluptuous harbour to vile insects
He that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption
The scorpion shall open the book of Salomon for you to see
And the snake slither out of the lips that delivered once
The redeemer of man, born out of shameful maternity...
He that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption
The lactiferous beast subjugated reason to appetite
Praised be human nature, ciborium of shame and waste,
For bathing in decline a redeemer moisty of semen so contemptible
There resides the fusion, there is the nucleus
Angel prick and holy semen
And a woman genuflecting an aroused beast of burden alike
Seduced by the father and seducing the son
There resides the fusion, there is the nucleus
A phallic communion that sanctifies interior wastelands
When a woman is knead by the claws of fowls attracted
By seminal odours no longer hidden by dignity
And purified by their beaks rummaging her swollen vagina
When laments alter into praises despite holy duty and menacing perdition
Seers can say that his birth does death subdue no more
His birth does death subdue not, for my God proceeds of failed humility...
O Master, the eastern pillar of your domination is the organic fallibility.
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