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NECROS CHRISTOS
Domedon Doxomedon

Sepulchral Voice (2018)
Rating: 9/10

Talk about getting your money’s worth! Domedon Doxomedon is one of those rare extreme metal albums that has not only been worth the wait (seven years since last outing Doom Of The Occult), but when it does come it hits you with such a force that after just one spin you’re left reeling and dazed.

Berlin’s Necros Christos may well have released one of the year’s finest records, a jam-packed esoteric nightmare formed of 27 songs which come in three segments (ITH א, SETH ב and TEI טטט); the first runs for 35 minutes, the second clocks in at 38 and part three has a duration of 40 minutes.

Much of what is on offer is spliced up with atmospheric instrumentals, the reality being that while there are some lengthy tracks throughout, they only number a few in each segment. Literally everything else is instrumental but believe me, this is a work of art and not your average black / death opus. While this unholy gang of four is at times an old school throwback with their grisly vocal traits and morose riffs, it could also be argued that the combo is one of the most ambitious and this record proves why.

Beginning like some eerie ritual, Mors Dalos Ra (vocals, guitar, and keyboards), The Evil Reverend N (guitar), Peter Habura (bass) and Iván Hernández (drums) creep into your psyche with their monolithic and at times terrifying metal. Always doom-laden in structure and coated with arrogance, this veritable feast of night terrors begins its haunting yet unfathomable trudge with ‘I Am Christ’; a grotesque tumbling of riff, bass and drum led by the masterful grim scowls of Mors.

These guys are not pretenders to the throne, having cast dark and permanent shadows on the scene since 2001. Domedon Doxomedon is billed as a farewell record, but it’s also a body of work so enveloping and rammed with perverseness that it’s sure to keep you mesmerised for years to come. Damn, it took me a long, long time to worm my way through the twisted chords of this record let alone the lyrics, the booming drums and the instrumentals which lure you in with their varying facades.

What’s also so hypnotic and incredible about this record is that you just know you can’t skip through it; the whole thing unravels like some tapestry of the dark arts and to skip a track or two would be considered blasphemous and ignorant, hence the weaving of instrumentals such as ‘Gate Of Sooun’, ‘Temple II: Who Will Get Me A Drink Of Water From The Cistern Of Bethlehem?’, ‘Temple IX : A Redeemer Will Come To Zion’ and any other ‘Temple’ in-between. Such interludes, often deceptive trickles to entice you into the darkness, are what sew this gargantuan display together so then as to enjoy / run in fear of such gnashing delights as ‘Tombstone Chapel’ with its discordant haste and pitch riffing, or ‘He Doth Mourn In Hell’ with its gloom-laden and very much thickly-clotted guitar drone.

Meanwhile, a track such as ‘Seven Altars Burn In Sin’ lumbers initially then takes on a tight-knit gallop with tasty percussive lashes and thundering bass. ‘The Heart Of King Solomon In Sorcery’ is clever and jarring, and showcases the cohesive nature of this cult – this one, like many others, builds on its foundation of blackened, juddering riffs and then a searing lead will introduce those gnarled vocals.

The third segment brings such grim glories as ‘The Guilt They Bore’; this one is probably the album’s heaviest and fastest expressions, although ‘Exodos’ is equally punishing and yet highly sophisticated. Necros Christos somehow operate outside of the black / death realm on ‘Exodos’, giving birth to such clandestine designs whereby one feels not worthy to experience, let alone understand what has gone into this mammoth record of darkness.

Again, the instrumentals act as timely reminders of how atmosphere is key; the stark piano of ‘Gate Of Dimitrijon’, the almost masked ball quality of the weird mantra ‘Gate Of Aion Tsevaoth’ and ‘Gate Of Behet-Myron’ with its eerie breeze are just a trio of examples of pieces wedged into this wholesome yet complex framework. The 14-minute ‘In Meditation On The Death Of Christ’ then comes heaving its mighty, metallic chest into the marble halls and coats everything in its black foetid trudge of misery, all before ‘Gate Of Ea-On’ closes proceedings as an engaging acoustic tickle that wouldn’t seem out of place on a Spanish beach within the flickering glow of a fire.

As this mighty magnum opus shuts its gates to the listener, one can’t help but feel the shadows of dread that linger long in the memory and in the room.

Neil Arnold

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