Hello I’m Durk, your unknown reviewer. Today I present you one of my favorite albums of all time, strangely just released; but already the highest up my unknown charts of favorites. It’s an album by occult sounding music makers named Ak’chamel and it’s called ‘The Man Who Drank God’. Shall we begin?
I Take Nothing’ is the first step in the ritual that ak’chamel has prepared for us listeners to go through. It’s like suddenly awakening at some occult’s birthday party in which the happy felicitating song could also be experienced as a funeral anthem.
The happy and sad combo is trending here, as Ak’chamel play ‘Rainmaking’; a loopy anti folk progression in which a visual videoclip of mind controlled colorful zombies have risen from their graves in order for a polonaise. While listening to this with an additional strong alcoholic drink you will even hear that the spirit of the famous Viking called Moondog has joined the parade.
Their ‘Song For Serpents’ take this trip a step further by playing this out in a desert like sounding environment in the scent of shadows and a fire. There is a warmth captured here that probably will please the serpents and randomly joined cult followers quite well.
And then they play for is the dramatically warm sounding ‘Kume piuke’. Here it’s easy to imagine the group of music sacrificing music makers dressed in capes and face covering hoodies. They play the acoustic performance as if it’s a sacred holy (or unholy) work to the gods (or devils) in a way that can only be described as ‘devoted’. It has the same effect as a well visited church session with choirs and humming priests, yet Ak’chamel sound way more believable than your average religion, and actually comes across as a cult that you would love to exchange your earthly possessions for.
The Curse Of Illness’ presents itself shimmery and then as if Bill Cosby has added a rape drug into your drink; the music seems to have drugged the listeners and comes to life in feverish circumstances. It isn’t a nasty fever, more one that just gives you a day off in order to stay at home drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. It is here that I would like to ask our favorite reader of our humble blog ‘Tom Waits’ to check this album by Ak’chamel out:
‘Hey Tom, I know you are reading this and thank you for that. I would love to have a chat about your private cigar collection, but as this note to you isn’t very private; I would just give it to you straight and fair. You really should check out this album by ‘Ak’chamel’ man, you really should. I believe it’s something you would dig, something to setup a Tom Waits tour for and have Ak’chamel touring with you hypnotizing your audience until they are in some psychedelic ecstasy. I really feel you would love them Tom, they don’t sound like you and might spoon up new inspiration and are perhaps also good coffee and cigarette mates… Thanks Tom for checking them out soon (I just know you will!) and have a nice day and all that… Signed with love, your unknown buddy Durk.’
-Sorry for that dear readers-
The album continues with a very short but not unimportant sounding track named ‘creation’ in which it sounds as if a group of devoted followers have joined the Ak’chamel main members in bringing more meaning and volume to their scenic expressions.
This sound of a strong cult in which every vocal and soul seems to count as a vivid member holds its theme tight in ‘jaguar and the basket’. It is here that my imagination sees the band baptizing its latest cult following in a dirty river; expect hypnotic folk and revelations!
Nam Nogaw is what I would like to describe as ‘!nam enog yaw’. It’s a piece of backwards entertainment that only psychedelic mad hatters can agree upon. It’s as if the high Ak’chamel priest orders something to the gathered crowd before feeding them a dodgy looking liquid that will give them super powers & seals the bond of brother and sisters in this cult business.
After drinking it’s time for eating, and by eating we mean time for the praised ghosts to munch on devoted new members that failed the rituals. The dinner music is carefully provided so to keep the ghosts in the comfort zone, so nobody chokes on a bit of bone or a random piece of flesh.
‘Tlaloc, full of sores’ comes as if Ak’chamel gathered the group together to perform a true story as a warning for others who deceive or leave the cult. The mood is warm and friendly, yet at the same time sinister, dark and hypnotic in a ghostly way. They hum their secretive words of ancient wisdom while old rustic gates are opening themselves for artistic audio effects.
‘Alone in Death’ is the final end, the darkness at the end of the tunnel, the moment in which Ak’chamel holds the dying in their hands and wishing them a good journey in to the afterlife, in the obvious hope that they will come back as spirits in the next ritual, or follow up album.
I have already said it, but Ak’chamel’s ‘The Man Who Drank God’ is like listening to a happy funeral cult in which ghosts, devoted followers and strange rituals can be enjoyed from the safety of your home, car, room, office, wherever you want to play this tape from..
Check it out over here: