Aug 262024
 

(About 10 days ago the multi-national extreme metal band Absence of the Sacred released their fourth album, IV: The Hand That Wounds, and below we present NCS writer Vizzah Harri‘s enthusiastic and evocative review of this new achievement.)

There is a saying that we die every second we breathe, for each breath that we release back into the air is a small death. In French that translates to petit mort, which in no uncertain terms is slang for sexual release. The immensity of molecules exuded from just the collective sigh necessary to deliver a qualifiable work of art into the world… uncountable. It’s important to put in perspective sometimes where we are at, and how good we have it right at this minute.

In death there is life, yet we consume the art that can un-alive a packed venue for the amount of carbon dioxide released from the breaths it took to create. We consume without sometimes even thinking about that part, and we can masticate on that hard-won elegance made manifest in waves of sound as if it were nothing, but a thing it is.

According to Mia Priest, this is the most cohesive release of Absence of the Sacred in terms of their vision of how the band should sound, that it is musically and lyrically the most mature of their efforts. Showcasing their strengths as musicians while also being a lyrical summation of everything destructive in our own existence as a species are what drove the creation of the release both lyrically and thematically.

Extrapolating further on the themes, she told us that the frustrations about the state of a world steeped in inequalities and unsustainability also influenced the direction of the album. Absence Of The Sacred have been around for nearly 20 years and previously featured members from heavyweights like Wormrot and Dying Fetus. This time ’round the lineup has members from Iskald (Norway), Nightmare A.D., Benighted and Construct of Lethe.

An intronomicon by Microchip Terror leads into a conflagration of instrumental cacophony, you know, that sound when a symphony tunes their instruments before unleashing sonic prowess? That’s what Absence Of The Sacred did there. Systems up, systems go. Fears of electronic excesses are allayed as Die Hand Die Verletzt goes straight for the throat before caressing you into a false sense of security. The opening title track, translated into German but with lyrics in English, is a melodic death/thrash classic.

If you’re tired of the news, of being reminded how we are in late-stage capitalism, that life in the 21st century seems futile, then this album is for you, because this international act feels the same. After a long hiatus, the band announce their reactivation and reawakening from slumber with a strong statement of discontent:

An aperture deformed

Ascertain the segregation of ideals

Nations will fall

 

From the eternal sea

Comes the confliction of humanity

Incur faceless wrath

The music abates before a vocal onslaught of immensity you better be strapped in for to receive. A caveman meat-and-potatoes break (not a slight) with a flickering riff that eventually takes the forefront before more punishment by Satan’s drill sergeant.

Act 3 of Die Hand Die Verletzt enters a lamentation period with cleans and harsh vox mixed in such a fashion as to be a demonic rendition of throat singing and is reminiscent of the filthiest of cradles being even more defiled. As such, themes here do nod towards not just system failure, but also that of cultural-, societal- and at their base, familial rot.

Zealot is next. The drum performance is staggering, the speed, shifts in tone proclivities for juxtaposition, melodicity and unrelenting punishment together with a break so unconventional I just had to crack a smile. You can see the drum playthrough by Kevin Paradis, here:

The interplay of the rhythm section while thrashy death-riffs lay down the gauntlet is extremely satisfying. The ability to take one riff and then transmogrify it into a multifaceted beast while adding textures that soar and pulverize could just turn one into a proselytizer of death. Ah, shit, they got me.

No motherfucking fat, just as I like it.

Fukushima as a disaster topic might not have been covered as much as the other suffixed -shima or Chernobyl for that matter. However, the febrile ferocity of the tropics on display in Radioactive Ghosts of Fukushima is set to melt your fucking face off with the levels of radiation it offers up. The chorus echoes, and the music does not abate in crack-laced glut.

Speaking of face-melts, the solo by Darren Chua on Quantum Locked in a Personal Hell is on a boss level. The lyrics are solid too; on-point, introspective and not just a siren song of “everything is fucked.”

Darwinian Mechanics, like nearly any other track here can sound straightforward at first, dialing in, but never phoned, some unavoidable genre tropes for the lack of better words. Though, a band that decided they’d skip naming themselves after an Abrahamic god so people would always think of them at the end of the year, were not content with just sticking to set constructs.

Like the world we live in sometimes keeping us off balance, with The Hand That Wounds we can experience an attempt of righting that imbalance ever so slightly by means of sonic ablation. One of the most enjoyable parts of the whole album arises around the 2-minute mark in this track. Other than this flurry of ASMR drumming (amongst many), it’s wonderful to listen to a band that takes itself seriously and took so much care in mixing and mastering so that one can clearly hear every facet of what is on display.

If you play The Hand That Wounds backwards, the outro runs beautifully into All-consuming MatrixNeraka can also be confused for ‘simulacra’ in death-growl. Sometimes it’s a shorthand way of finding out whether an album closes well — spoiler alert, it does. The release of sanctity we’re dealing with here is moored on both ends with intro- and outronomicons by the tasteful electronic contributions of Microchip Terror.

At just over 24 minutes of relentless metal wrath for tracks 2-6 and the outro cutting out like a system shutting down: there’s no added bs. It might be EP length yet I could care less about album lengths and gatekeeping pedantry like that: it’s compact, flesh-excoriating, and a macro dose of intensity. I’m not sold that this band is actually human, more akin to the anthropomorph androids of Ghost in the Shell, or radioactive ghosts that is.

With lyrics leaning more in the direction of the thinking person’s metal, though even troglodytes like me are wont to enjoy it. Songs are not just constructed to sound cool, with lyrics to shock, scare, or salivate. Extrapolations on the thinking being’s stance in the epoch. The music sinks massive anchors of first-rate ships of the line into the mind. The bass pulsates and deleteriously echoes like the anchor rode chains of an adjacent dimension. The guitars change pace, direction, and ferociousness with intelligence, the drums are sublime. Not just speed for its sake, not just elixir for the throat to be slaked. Be careful how much you drink of this well for its propensity to dissolve the very throat you use to chant that which this priest intones.

IV: The Hand That Wounds was recorded in 4 different studios and mixed and mastered in Grottemann Studio, Norway. A statement of disillusionment with the nature and state of things as they stand in today’s world. A rallying call, a heralding of vexation. A commentary on the invisible hand not so hidden anymore, its transparency in today’s age allowing the artist to utterly eviscerate the denouement of decadence.

LINE-UP:
Mia Priest – Vocals / Guitars
Darren Chua – Guitars / Solos
Emanuel Salgado – Bass
Kevin Paradis – Drums

  • Music by Mia Priest and Darren Chua
  • Concept and Lyrics by Mia Priest
  • Microchip Terror – Intronomicon / Outronomicon

Guitars recorded at I.P.A.B. Productions

Vocals recorded at The French House

Bass recorded at Grottemann Studio

Drums recorded at Nostromo Studio

Mixed and mastered at Grottemann Studio

Album Artwork painted in watercolor by Isa Pilapil

Band Logo by Galaxie Maria (Maria Delfino)

LINKS:

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