Published on Apr 8, 2002
Back when I reviewed
The Last Supper, the 1995 debut from Austrian black-metal
band Belphegor, I said the disc sounded like the group hadn’t quite
come into its own musically. Listening to
Blutsabbath, the 1997 follow-up disc, it’s nice to know that
I was right on the money with that call. An intense, dark 35-minute
ride is what is in store for the listener – even if you don’t
understand a goddamned word that is being screamed.
No kidding – I could not translate a single word that
guitarist/vocalist Helmuth (lineup information I’m getting from
All-Music Guide) utters. Not that it really matters too much. After
all, if you pick up a disc with a topless, blood-covered woman with
an inverted cross around her neck and a ram’s skull sitting on the
ground next to her, chances are you’re not going to confuse this
with the latest disc from Raffi. And with song titles such as
“Behind The Black Moon,” “No Resurrection” and “The Requiem Of
Hell,” one would be hard-pressed to say this one is in the
Contmporary Christian category.
No, faithful reader, I’m not making fun of the band’s overt
Satanic tomes – Lord knows I’ve listened to enough discs of this
ilk over the last few years. But when the vocals – much like those
of early Napalm Death releases – are reduced to so much shouting,
one has to turn to the music itself as a roadmap. Fortunately,
Belphegor had tightened up quite a bit as a group on
Blutsabbath, and the performances on this disc are not only
intense, they’re also enjoyable. I especially like the effect
(though I don’t know if it was done by Helmuth or Sigurd) that
makes it sound like the guitar is screaming during “No
Resurrection”. At the point in the song where this occurs, it’s
just the right time for such a noise, and the effect works
well.
What also works in Belphegor’s favor is that they don’t
constantly have the pedal pushed straight through the floor in
terms of speed. Make no mistake, there are no ballads to be found
on
Blutsabbath, but the band seems to know at which point in a
song to lay off the hummingbird-on-Starbucks drumming and
lightning-fast guitar work and go for a more controlled beat. In
fact, there’s only one complaint I can register at all with
Blutsabbath – namely, the final minute of “Path Of Sin,”
where it sounds like Helmuth is clearing his throat in place of a
vocal line. Sorry, boys, but that last minute of the last song
could have been left on the cutting room floor.
Still,
Blutsabbath is a solid effort for Belphegor, and a marked
improvement over their first effort. It’s the kind of disc that,
despite my not agreeing with the philosophy of the music, makes me
want to hear more from this group.