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NYSEIUS
De Divinatione Daemonum‏


ATMF (2015)
Rating: 8/10

Adorned in black habits and corpse-paint around a flickering cauldron in promotional photogaphs, it seemed obvious as to what listeners were in for on Nyseius’ sophomore effort, which follows on from the French band’s 2010 debut Militaie.

Nyseius are probably just too damn evil to be prolific artists, because since forming in 2002 I’m guessing they’ve spent most of their time huddled around campfires conjuring up demons given it’s been five years since their debut offering. Thankfully, as time has passed I’ve had other compositions chilling my spine, but now I have presented before me Nyseuis’ sophomore book of spells; a grim, obscure and often eerie soundtrack to those dark nights by the lapping flames.

And so things begin with the harrowingly mournful intro entitled ‘De Casu Diaboli’, five minutes of ashen white noise, which in typical black metal fashion is nothing more than a cold, sombre groan of negativity before we’re swept up in the frothing rage of ‘Extinction Of The Seven Divine Spirits’ – an eight-minute journey through the tundra where grey guitars rage like icy gushes from a powerhouse waterfall and the drums whip our backs in a frenzy.

Nothing beats a dose of truly frightful black metal and Nyseius offers up just that thanks to the hoarse, throaty warbles of Daeloth, who spends most of his time barking like a hellhound amidst the sonic barrage of raging percussion, furious bass and seething guitars. It’s black metal but with extra beef and malevolence, because while it’s more than happy to reduce the body to a pile of frozen bones, there’s every suggestion here that Daeloth and company will also throw in a bit of blow-torch intensity too.

‘Extinction Of The Seven Divine Spirits’ is a thick, harsh serenade of ever-tightening gloom and rarely does it let up from that promise of blowing gales and hammering sleet. Such is the class of this intense downpour that it could be argued that Nyseius have well and truly created something as an alternative to the potent Scandinavian hordes, and this is seemingly apparent with such bleak insights as the tenth track ‘Black God Ascension’ which mirrors ‘Extinction Of The Seven Divine Spirits’, only with evermore malevolence and greyness.

Nyseius have nigh on done their best to create hate throughout this rushing composition, intent on exhibiting a bleak, worming guitar sound with drums that tumble as if accompanying a dreadful avalanche. And in-between such hammering delights we are submitted to the suffocating ten-minute ‘Job’s Revelation’; a caustic, primitive and above all ghoulish satanic echo that rings through the ears like a parade of mocking demons. Although the riffs can be a tad repetitive, one gets the feeling that Nyseius have set out their stall knowing that such punishing regurgitation is sure to numb the listener, but let’s not simply believe that this formidable record is awash with formulaic black metal rants.

‘Towards The True Light’ is a truly horrible, grating and doom-laden gurgle of the grotesque. It’s probably the slowest expression on the record existing as a menacing ponder of esoteric values where Daeloth’s vocals are harsh, scornful blows to religion, while behind him we have that pallid backdrop bolstered by those pounding, anthemic drums. Elsewhere though, we can pluck out a track such as the eight-minute ‘Finis Terra Sancta’ and be truly battered by the driving blizzard of bass, drums and foaming guitars.

It’s interesting to note the promotional piece for this opus which states that the album is “fast but not brutal”, and that pretty much sums it up. Throughout this album there is a hypnotic intensity, but one which I’m comfortable with rather than slayed by. Although many of the songs lack an actual variation, Nyseius is very much about creating bleak atmospherics narrated by Daeloth’s harsh, aggravated tones.

While a lot of black metal may attempt to sound as thin, lo-fi and raw as possible, Nyseius has instead opted for a sound which rushes and gushes but still mesmerises as it bleakly flows as thick, foaming grey waves of wickedness.

Neil Arnold

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