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CRUZ
Confines de la Cordura

Nuclear Winter (2022)
Rating: 8/10

A melancholic piano leads us into the darkness of what is the second full-length instalment from Spanish death / thrash act Cruz.

This quintet hasn’t been all too active since forming in 2013, but damn do they make up for it once ‘Als Peus De La Creu’ comes raging out of its dwelling. This is nasty death thrash with occasional black metal flirtations, but in whichever hailing form it takes this is one aggressive, spouting composition of chaos and hatred propelled further by the vicious expressions of vocal wraith Narcís Boter Jaume who has taken over the spitting duties from guitarist Michele Stocco.

This sophomore outing feels snappy and violent even though a majority of the tracks are quite long. The slower tempos offered remain as chilled as the venomous blizzards, so you get an interesting yet always wicked approach to every song whereby those gushing, dissonant riffs cascade like ice cold and black veils of water, but the feelings of dread and suspense are never washed away.

Everything about Confines de la Cordura feels extreme, uninviting and utterly black and spiteful. ‘Infamia Insular’ gets the heart rate up with its pugnacious percussion as the vocal barks radiate a stark, cruel energy through the windstorms and torrents of invasive axe work and bass.

Considering how the latest Behemoth opus Opvs Contra Natvram – even with its drama and theatrical terrors – seemed a touch predictable, I’d suggest instead jumping on the back of this icy beast and succumb to its vile surges of satanica.

The epic and brooding ‘Els Murs Errants’ opens like the rising of a great curtain to reveal a further imposing stench of utter blackness within which evil, distorted shadows menacingly craft the abysmal sounds waiting to envelope you in their leather wings. The drums tumble and the riffs scratch like a foul Darkthrone-cum-Bathory offshoot, only more war-torn and bleak due to having being exposed to the permafrost for too long. But once thawed, the drums kick like a mule and the nefarious licks emerge as the combo speed like a shark zoning in on its bait.

The title track is toxic in its simmering gait, chiming and echoing within its own stinking chamber of never-ending chills before the battering pace once again consumes. And that’s how the foul Cruz operate; building networks of tangled suspense before savaging you in such a horrid frenzy that only flaps of shredded flesh remains.

‘Eones de Sangre’ confirms my suspicions that such a band is simply out to maul then move on to its next prey. The blazing yet freezing axe work acts as an endless violent rage that by the time the even faster ‘L’alè de la Cripta’ has formed a stranglehold, you’ve already submitted.

Forget Behemoth, Cruz is the nastiest entity on the block right now, to the point that it’s surely illegal to work in such sub-zero temperatures.

Neil Arnold

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