Artists: Nihilistic Delusion & Failure
Title: Chaotic Worship To Inner Demons
Label: SP Recordings
Keywords: Black Noise
Reviewer: Alex Spalding
Easter tidings, o’ dark onesss. Most assuredly, as the fates prophesied, April hath sent another of it’s fools to usss! Ye who enters here, our terrible, wretched pit of despair and misssery… is it not your deepest desssire to read a review? Will this appease you?.. the blackessst of noise, by Nihilistic Delusion & Failure titled Chaotic Worship To Inner Demons? I shall scratch this review into the backflesssh of one-hundred young, nubile virgins so that I may satisfy our godesss, our lascivious mistresss of the night… I believe you know her as Elvira. Yesss, childe… come closer… clossser… gaze longingly, with the impure thoughts of a pimply-faced adolessscent boy at the white, fleshy breasssts of your missstresss… and now you are ours! OURS! Aaaahhh ha ha ha!
‘Chaotic Worship To Inner Demons’ beginsss with harsh frequencies of guitar noissse. It feels as if the feedback is banging the inside of your ssskull. It is black, painful, sharp… like the daggers in our eldritch heartsss… the destruction of our soulsss is at hand. The wash of guitar noise is like a procession of funeral carriages, trumpeters signaling the apocalypssse. Crash cymbols like the symbols of sacrificial slaughter. The plague of chaos beseeches us to the defaced altar and Baphomet smilesss upon usss. We are but a carapace of wormsss… the feeding vessel of the parasite. The guitarsss decay into shrill octavesss, salivating for the mass to satisfy the blood omen. From the womb emerges death, death of all!
Yesss… yesss, now you see… you have become one of usss…
… who daresss enter our lair!?
“IT IS I, GALLAHAD, WHITE KNIGHT OF THE INTERNET COME TO PUT A STOP TO THIS VILLAINY WITH MY PURE, VIGILANT HEART AND CAPS LOCK ON, ALL THE WAY!”
You are too late! The boy/girl/thing is oursss!
“FUCK YOU, DEVIL!”
*at this interval of the conversation, Gallahad brandishes a sword that shines so strongly it is as if imbued with the light of the sun itself. It blinds the reviewer, who then begins to melt and smoke like a slice of cheddar on a too-hot grill*
“RETURN FROM WHENCE YE CAME!”
*Gallahad then strides off on a unicorn, his work done. Unbeknownst to him, however, the reviewer had assumed something like this might happen and left a link between the worlds of the living and the dead on the mildewy floor of his dungeon, aka the bottom of this text*