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INCANTATION
Sect Of Vile Divinities

Relapse (2020)
Rating: 8/10

Continuing their reign of repulsive, crawling chaos, US death metallers Incantation return for their latest outing; again plundering those archaic, cavernous deaths whereby dragging, despairing riffage is the order of the day, carved out amidst great walls of dank percussive bludgeoning and yawning vocal traits.

Incantation has become an immovable object within the genre as the upstarts around them crawl for attention, although their mighty, monolithic slabs have no real comparison, except by maybe classic Morbid Angel. But this band just continues to travel into darker, esoteric kingdoms, veering into drab n’ doomy passages of engulfing morbidity.

All the while Incantation remains more than adept at creating shredding blasts of ferocity; just listen to ‘Shadow-Blade Masters Of Tempest And Maelstrom’, even if the title reads like something associated with the 1980s Dungeons & Dragons phase. But, as always, this is serious, pounding metal in spite of the band’s abilities to flesh out their sound with some downright grooviness, like on closer ‘Siege Hive’. Of course, the six-string slaughter is always dominant; a lethal weapon within the murkiness as those avalanche riffs just cascade like black bombs of heavy snow, occasionally letting another blazing solo emerge and scurry for the light.

The melodic grimness of ‘Ignis Fatuus’ showcases more flexibility within that classic, familiar old school vibe – the combination of doom and death being Incantation’s trademark – while the echoing guitar tone on 90s Swedish throwback ‘Guardians From The Primeval’ is just wonderfully atmospheric; the band conjuring up some truly daunting anthems of dread and suspense as another mid-paced heap of drudgery comes heaving its sorry arse out of the pustulent pit.

At times, I almost refuse to believe that Incantation has a recording studio. Instead, I imagine peculiar and damp webbed portals from some Lovecraftian nightmare, which is surely the only putrid plateau whereby such megalithic tones can be created.

John McEntee’s vocals remain a pulverising and nerve-shredding energy. However, he really comes to the fore with the eerie chimes of ‘Entrails Of The Hag Queen’. It’s my favourite track on the album that begins with blistering, bubbling bass lines in cohorts with waves of black / death frenzy as the drums hammer and flail wildly before steps are taken into slow-mo whining, aged doom metal. The combo then builds again in creepy fashion, slowly creating high levels of atmosphere before another tirade rips the veins from your body and ties you up in a knotty frame of gore.

‘Propitiation’ begins with simmering eeriness, where the percussion kicks hard in its consistent bellowing and a dank solo forms out of the stuffy air. But it’s not until just gone the two-minute mark that Incantation shapes into a kid-faced giant of grotesque noise.

The short yet blazing swamp gas of ‘Chant Of Formless Dead’ features some of the albums ghastliest vocal gurgles amidst a wailing wall of speed and wizardry, while ‘Scribes Of The Stygian’ aches with doomy nuances, barely escaping from a morose plod until again we succumb to the steady black waves of oblivion.

You could pick out any one of these grim serenades and you’ll be consumed by immense showers of doom, but then the next moment swept up by a pulverising frenzy. However, while ’Scribes Of The Stygian’ is certainly Incantation at its doomiest, it’s ‘Unborn Ambrosia’ which is probably the weightiest and most horrible trudge known to the album; a steady, grim cascading of vocal bellows and Incantation’s masterful clammy claustrophobia.

Even when the speed emerges from the cracks it’s as if one is stepping into the greeny hue of the album cover and being slowly crushed by toxic gas, ruined pillars and decadent fibres in the dim air. Only a track such as ‘Fury’s Manifesto’ can blast away the thick, cloying cob-webs with its unrelenting hammering, but even then the soggy atmosphere has taken its toll as once again you slump, bereft, into the boggy delights of another Incantation hive or horror.

Sect Of Vile Entities is, as expected, another hair-raising amalgamation of death and doom metal grisliness… and that’s fine by me.

Neil Arnold

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