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ARCHGOAT
The Luciferian Crown

Debemur Morti Productions (2018)
Rating: 8.5/10

Spawned from the vast aeons of Hell during the late 80s, fetid warriors of the apocalypse Archgoat have not been the most prolific extreme metal act. So be thankful then disciples that we have another blast furnace to contend with.

This is album number four within the deranged discography that also includes a batch of split projects and a few EPs, but with The Luciferian Crown the Finnish black mass has cemented its place as producers of nightmarish metal.

The outing features ten tracks (including the 20-second introduction, ‘Intrantation’) of impure, hellish, fire-scorched hate, death ‘n’ destruction which, just to lure you in – and heed the warning – opt for slower, rancid tempos before crushing you with an absolute pile-driving bass, drum and guitar.

Archgoat deliver fast, furious and extremely heated death-cum-black metal scariness, from the early strains of ‘Jesus Christ Father Of Lies’ through to the even more disturbing dankness of ‘Jezebel’s Black Mass Orgy’ and ‘Messiah Of Pigs’. If you’re not familiar with such jewels then believe me, you’re not going to be in for an easy ride as the hyper drum blasts create enough friction to set fire to your stereo before your hair soon becomes at one with the flames, such is the rank speed and fiery din caused.

The presence of the band members is akin to a gaggle of demons wrapping at your window. The music is just a sorry mess of black thrashing hate, pungent doom-laden squalid beating and blustery flamethrower whips, and that’s without the grotesque and chesty vomits up front.

There are still flurries of melody too within the barbed wire lashings and countless wading through Hades’ rivers; sick punkoid frenzy is coughed up to combat speedy shocks as titles such as ‘Sorcery And Doom’, ‘The Obsidian Flame (From My Depths)’ and ‘I Am Lucifer’s Temple’ rattle, scamper and scurry from blackened, charred dungeons. Couple such skirmishes with tolling clamour and burped up innards and chains and you’ve got yourself a pile of bloodied excrement that only Archgoat can produce – the percussion alone battering so hard and fast that my entire medicine cabinet of pills will not be enough to dampen the pain left by this destructive habitat of sound.

Deranged fans of Archgoat will lap this up in absolute perverted fury, because for dingy atmosphere, scolding and downright evil presence this mound of steaming filth is gonna take some beating.

Neil Arnold

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