Eight tracks paint a robust and varied portrait of the band’s sound: “Beyond” snuggling with Depeche Mode while “Die Macht” does a Rammstein’s boot-stomp.
A sad record. Not in a boo-hoo way, it’s more of a hands-in-pockets, head down, kick the can as the weight of existence slows your movement kind of way.
Dimmu Borgir may have waded even deeper than usual into the realm of symphonic melodrama this time around, but they’ve still got the riffs, so fuck you.
The fantastically detailed (and sadistically difficult) game that lay beneath these visuals lives on in the sequel, with an even greater emphasis on the humor.
Think Cephalic Carnage is content to travel the well-worn grindcore path of blastbeats or one-dimensional wall of sound? You don’t know what you’re in for.
Jupiter zips and crashes around the room, its sharp edges colliding with surfaces hard and soft, hurling itself constantly forward with impossible energy.