Teeth Of Lions Rule The Divine
Rampton

Something is changing. The fetid earth covering that goat carcass of an extreme musical landscape is further putrefying. And all this is a precious good. Otherwise, they wouldn't exist. The evil would only be represented by insignificant Norwegian long-haired guys with faces painted in black and white who, between murdering a gay person and burning a church, find time to make the rocks laugh with black metal. The BLEK METAL. I mean, the BLEK METAL. I have nothing against BLEK METAL (no, of course not, but nooo...), but my twisted conviction is that a human being over 16 years old can no longer be impressed; in front of the bleksters, you have to fear the true evil, the greater evil. The only goat you can see in the true evil is that of Capradimontagnaserpente which proudly stands on the latest record, no inverted crosses (at least no intentionally and seriously inverted crosses, maybe fallen rather than overturned), the pentatonic stars the other way the Iron Monkey put them there to mock you beautifully. They don't burn churches in the greater evil, just brain cells.

It's a good thing they exist. It's a good thing Stephen O'Malley exists. Drone is evil. Drone was invented by him, ergo O'Malley is evil. Maybe O'Malley alone couldn't have scared the crap out of me with a record, so why not call in another three random bastards? Lee Dorrian (my god), Greg Anderson (my Lucifer), Justin Greaves (my hellhound with a face). No need for double bass and absurd speeds (which, by god, I like very much, let's be clear), just the evil genius of four idyllic doomsters, who at first glance seem like four great names, but if you think about it, they've got the perfect doom drummer and surrounding (Giustino Tuomba), the singer par excellence (Leo Doriano, who is also the most handsome), and the two doomsters looking to the future, the most innovative (Stefano Omalla and Gregorio FigliodiAndrea), the DreamTeam of Doom, if they had taken Jus Oborn, we would still be partying since 2002.
If Marco Ferradini had written "Teorema" twenty years later and had listened to Teeth Of Lions Rule The Divine, then it would have gone something like this. "Take a woman, take her into a forest, make her listen to this record, do her, cut off her head, do her again and then burn her". It awakens the instinct, I say, considering acid doom the perfect soundtrack for a party. A record to play in the car on a date with a super babe, just to see the expression it makes, just to look her in the eyes and see your own face reflected drowning in the terror of someone who never expected that stuff like this existed in the world. A guaranteed surprise effect. Sure, then you also lose a nice blow job, but can you imagine the satisfaction?

One last thing. You don't need to splatter yourself with various drugs like Electric Wizard to listen to it, or the aforementioned surprise effect would go down the drain.

Within her hands are gifts for the damned
You take them all
Consume the pills, the acid, the booze
Weakness can't refuse
White speed, brown smack, bone pipe filled with crack
There's no turning back
Mushrooms and cocaine fight wars in your brain
You can't stop the pain
Your mind is ablaze, bleak streets are in flames
You burn in the maze
Soul falling down, deep into black sand
Where senses are drowned
Still you take more
Smoke pills with your draw, lick speed off the floor
You head hits the wall, you're charged with death fuel
The ecstasy's cruel
The room's turning red, your trip becomes dread
Yet still you accept
She smiles then disappears- her face haunts your fear, fear, fear, fear

Oh oh oh. Mom liked it too. It's always a pleasure to hear her scream "Leeeeeeeee you sing just like in the days of Forest Of Equilibrium!!!"