Album Title: 
Power Frost
Release Date: 
Friday, November 29, 2013
Review Type: 

Transylvania, indeed, it’s the region most people might refer to one of my possible ancestors ( ???), Mr. Vladimir Tepes, prince of the Order of the Dragons. It’s also an area that houses many great acts that are truly inspired in one way or another (not just lyrically, yet also through blood and nationalism) by Uncle Vlad the Impaler [note: in fact, it was the princedom of Wallachia, but that’s another discussion…]. But anyway, it’s also home to Persekutor, a pretty unknown entity that consists of two omnipresent humans (guitar player / vocalist Vlad The Inhaler -can you imagine- and bass player Iron Slasher) and a session drum-boy (this time: Doktor Impossible). Persekutor once recorded a full album, which was called Angels Of Meth, but it seems to be extremely hard, almost impossible to find (I heard that there were problems with Russian mafia, and almost all copies have been destroyed in mean time; rumors say that Fenriz possesses the only remaining edition??? I surely, for the Horned One and F*ck’s sake, do not have it into my existential possession – do I now need to add a dreary smiley???). And indeed it took seven years of my precious time before Persekutor decided to record and release new stuff.

But whatsoever, Power Frost is now, finally, a fact, including two pieces of Abyssal Aural Art (with another rumor: the track The Twitching Hour was stolen from Repulsion’s Scott Carlson, but the legal bullsh*t behind the case seems to be all right).

What? Well, nihilistic, uncompromising, unpolished and primitive, yet uncomplicated and pure Black Art it is, these two symphonies of Transylvanian Dark Majesty. It sounds like a hint of Tormentor which gets unbeautifully un-colored by trans-European bleakness à la Satanic Warmaster, Samael (the old one, of course), Desaster, Enthroned, Celtic Frost and Bathory. Indeed, it is a ‘wide’ definition, but a comprehensible one if you have the different layers penetrating your ear drums.

Sound: little too inferior, but that isn’t but a minor detail…