Hate Profile
The Khaos Hatefile

[I don't give stars or numerical ratings because from personal experience I see that in their presence every word loses meaning]

When discussing this work, the first observation that came to me was a reflection on the birth and development of that murky and expansive (if not now shattered) phenomenon called Black Metal. The principal consideration of the reasoning, largely linked to the album I'm treating on this page, concerns the conscious evolution that has interested the universe born from a dull and blind hatred towards a reality felt and lived but not analyzed rationally, finally furiously assailed by a large group of youths and very young people, devoid of the tools through which many protect and fortify themselves under the blows of the most disparate chances, among which the lacerating monotony of the customary and homogenizing life. Deprived of the shield of what we call Culture, a common heritage of human experiences, relying solely on themselves, the youngsters became the expression of a common feeling, which only much later, when grown – but not all were able -, they managed to describe and collect in a composed reflection.

The frustration for a world dried up by the glittering barrenness of consumerism, for peoples, persons and friends born or turned into ranks at the mercy of the few and insipid opinions launched from the unreachable pulpit of a globalized and gray elitocracy, were excellent catalysts of a malaise that translated into that renowned scream that struck the civilized and reasonable Norway and then other states, spreading like wildfire, corresponding to the outburst of a common Western intolerance against the same universe and Western world of values. Times evolve, and the current state of affairs prevents the continuation of the naive revolution from which it all began. Nowadays, there is no valid group that has not more or less directly had to come to terms with reality, leaving the almost mythological universe behind the gates of which it had enclosed itself as a protest against a world it refused without understanding and face the clash between exteriority and inner reality. Beware, because this is an evolutionary process that few have been able to embrace, and to prove what I say, just think of the thousands of copycat bands that each month send their predictable demo to various 'zines, not realizing they have created nothing different or personal, merely following, without understanding, a path well-trodden by others.

What is required of bands and thinkers of this new cycle? Awareness. Awareness of ourselves and the world that flows around and, particularly, of the dynamics and mechanisms that dominate it and influence ourselves. It is useless and counterproductive to continue to place oneself in a vision of things that Nietzsche would have defined as "sick monumentalism," entrenched, that is, in an exaltation of an Edenic and absolutely contrived universe, created as a reaction to daily squalor, populated by demons, Satanism, paganism, or fairies. This is something that has had a fundamental value (just think of the beautiful evocative power of each Immortal album) and revolutionary but it is now time for disillusionment and disenchantment to take the reins of that universe; not destroying it, but leading it to an evolution, that is, enriching it with deeper meanings and denser matter.

Introspection is the key that unlocks the deepest meaning of Essence and the ancestral engine of things, and it is to this that matured bands must look, like a Venus, among which I once again include Immortal, a band that has created a mythical setup, subtly permeated by a strong correspondence with the concreteness of living. "In the Dark Times, there will still be singing? Yes, there will be singing, about the Dark Times." This is the profound phrase (taken from Brecht) that I read on the Hate Profile website, a one-man band whose first work, 'The Khaos Hatefile', I am finally about to review. I chose to report it because it condenses all the Awareness and self-consciousness that I believe are needed, as I previously mentioned, for the birth of a "good work." It is intuitive that I have something extremely wise on my hands from the external structure of the album, from the cover marked with symbols of coherent theoretical value (no standard pentagram or attached inverted cross), such as the emblem of Mercury, an ambiguous god protecting human ingenuity (untied from moral values: defender of the arts, but also of thieves…), to the organization of the songs, which recalls a framework whose solidity and clarity have Aristotelian origins.

This Opus I (the first of a project that will see two more parts) consists of three arguments, in a crescendo where nothing has been left to chance. The entire work, a triptych, has the precise objective of "manifesting" an inner evolutionary path, marked by milestones that we can already partly experience with this "the Khaos Hatefile." Formally speaking (at least apparently), Hate Profile's product is musically conforms to traditional black metal structures: devoid of digressions, harsh, powerful. In short, a machine of destruction played with cold mastery and recorded – note – with great refinement. The result is indeed courageous, as there are few groups capable of weaving atmospheres without resorting to the dirty and muddy sounds that characterize many works of the early '90s (with attached copies) or to a hypertrophic overemphasis of keyboards. So an innovation, or if you will, a diversification even ideological that overwhelms so many minimal black "canons" (which we might somehow chronologically define as the father of this work), shifting the feeling from a sense of suffocation that permeates so many milestones (and attached copies) to the raw, smooth and almost geometric perfection that recalls distantly that feeling of the terrible Sublime on which 19th-century philosophers spent many words.

The album is cold, disembodied. Not dead, if by vital we mean the simple act of things, but throbbing with a murky and oppressed energy, a shimmering suggested by the skillful graphics of the cover (by Fabban of Aborym), whose phosphorescent presence progressively exudes in the Prologue, Chapter 0: "Demons in Me", bringing with it a powerful sense of oppression and inner discomfort. Is it perhaps a novelty to insert an instrumental track as a prelude to the real work? No, absolutely, in fact, it's something so consolidated that in many cases it has become a cliché. Let's clarify: we can speak of clichés only when a band embraces a "form" it does not intrinsically understand, simply inserting itself into a convention. This is not the case, where the prologue is indispensable to the Climax built by Hate Profile. The guitar, alienating and hypnotic, that I could recall to the musical expression of the most embittered Leopardi ("I have lost everything: I am a log that feels and suffers") inserts the listener into that channeling mood that will lead into the next track, Bleeding Black Heart, the opener of the first section, Fallen, the perdition.

Things become decidedly clear. We are talking about fast, technically impeccable Black Metal. The screaming and instruments are very well cared for, and a special praise goes to Grom for the drums: varied and powerful, it never falls into the banal (where, alas, many extreme drummers get entangled), while radically avoiding any groove-based additions and staying in the toughness of the blasts and the bass drum. The text is, if we want, the furious extrinsic expression of the dormant evil of the intro. Veils that Blind compared to the previous one, is, thanks to the guitar riffs, more "enveloping." The song presents itself as a real Maelstrom, an almost sea vortex endowed with its own Luciferian will. The reference to Lucifer is obligatory in The Darkened Angel: a creature of light, exasperated in its triumphant superiority, gloriously rose, feeding on a dark evil and a profound hatred, calling itself to support an example pointed out and followed by the same narrator. Musically speaking, the bass becomes more present (which in the genre is a stupidly underrated instrument) and also more incisive is the use of synths, capable of creating with the vocals an excellent sound suggestion, an immediate flash, without keyboard delays. "Fallen" closes with "The Day My Feathers Fell". I don't have much to say about this song. I note, once again, thanks to the excellent recording cleanliness, the work of the drums.

Let's move on to the "The Vision" section, opened by "Empty Rooms", which begins with the powerful gallop of the guitar on the double bass drum. The rhythms slow down, becoming meditative, cogitative, only to accelerate again. Note the extremely evocative guitar Leit Motiv and the "sacred" explicit of the Synths, which strip the listener of the fury heard (and experienced) so far. It may be an out-of-place reference, but the idea of empty rooms is fascinating and has struck the sentiment of many artists. The strongest echo (but it is an opinion) is probably in The Black House by Krieg… We reach the title Track, number 6(66). As you can see, the entire work revolves around the number 3, like a musical Divine Comedy: there are nine songs on the album, three phases of the project and here, in a prominent position, The Khaos Hatefile. The song is thematically interesting, as we could define it as the natural outlet of the path followed so far. The beginning is sublime: powerful, aggressive, a true ride of the Valkyries. It's a pity it wasn't deepened, preferring a clear closure through the blast. The ride resumes but the coda has broken the enchantment. Apparently, the song is structured according to the motion of the waves: a violent opening cyclically crashes against the wall of the drums. Once the first part ends, the song explodes, angry and direct, showing a skillful interweaving between guitar and drums, to which Amon418's effortlessly hard screaming naturally attaches.

Recall To Nothing follows that vortex structure we have already found, though decisively slowing the flow, which becomes thicker and more thrashy. There are some vocal passages that reminded me of the historic "In league with Satan" by Venom, curious. Choirs and synths, the band's strong suit and jewel in the crown, conclude the piece, introducing with great homogeneity Lapse of Perfection, based exclusively on clean guitar and synthesizer. The electronic instrument unfolds through the dimensions creating a unique psychological effect. The modulations, initially high, allow the mind to space through a synthetic infinity that narrows and becomes leaden as the tones lower. Acoustic effects increase, the universe closes in on itself, leaving a single, faint trace that fades: the Kaos vanishes into the nothing from which it was generated.

I hope to soon touch the evolution of a project that I believe should be judged with an overall view of its completion. What I've seen so far leaves a hopeful impression: the lack of thematic-musical ingenuities is tantamount to great self-awareness, of which we await impatiently the next fruits. I hope that Amon418 will divulge on their site the conceptual part of the project, as it would be interesting to read the reasoning that governed its creation.