Mostly decent doom stutter’n’stumble, the kinda choppy, “binary”-style Meshuggah whips about, but here slinkily coils slowly around your ankles like nĂĽ metal.
Krisiun don’t bend my brain the way bands like Immolation and Nile do, but they continue to define their sound on their fifth collection of pure virulence.
Some things are meant to roll like thunder across the plain. Heavy, syrupy metal riffs that mesh and work together much like the muscles in a dinosaur’s legs.
You can hear big, burly men beating the snot out of each other, drinking and wenching in a sticky-floored tavern, and mourning the loss of fallen brothers.