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White Death – Iconoclast

“Everyone knows the curse of the second album, because the first demo or album is always best,” smirks WHITE DEATH frontman Vritrahn. “People ask and hope us to do this or do that, and when we put out a few preview songs, there were complaints about sound, for example. So, not to please anybody, we bought the smallest and worst-possible amplifiers from the second-hand store just to ruin fucking great riffs and drown all the best things on this album under muddy noise.”
Black humor, perhaps, for WHITE DEATH’s forthcoming Iconoclast is anything but “worst-possible” or “muddy.” Rather, the Finns take the ripped-raw dungeonic recesses of the deepest catacombs of the ’90s black metal underground and raise them to triumphant, terrorizing heights. It’s a unique disconnect in that the soundfield (and, more so, execution) exudes rippling filth coupled with pulsing nastiness, but the songwriting itself surges with a majestic melodicism that’s equal parts euphoria and eulogy – or, rather, beautiful battle fury and its ultimate tragic ending. What’s more, they move at many speeds here, shifting with ease and elan; that WHITE DEATH don’t solely stick to the stock Finnish Tempo and instead make their acceleration almost effervescent lends an even-more-unique quality to the album. As such, Iconoclast keeps their hearts authentically ablaze with the underground spirit whilst unshackling themselves from the ghettoized thinking that mostly serves to keep the mongrel hordes within safe, status-quo boxes. A record for Black Metal People, but those who hate Black Metal People: truly, Iconoclast!

£15.00

4 in stock