First of all a warning: this review is not for the faint hearted.
Discobar Bizar goes to great lengths for its readers. Very great lengths. So we felt the urge, after an impressive passage by the band, to embark on an uneasy adventure and explore the backstage toilet. Handkerchief, ever since Graspop Metal Meeting 1996 in the inner pocket of our leather jacket, tightly held before mouth and nose to retain a gag reflex.
Curious and inquisitive by nature Discobar Bizar wanted to find out if, how much and which grain of sandpaper the lead vocalist had eaten before the concert. We did not find any sandpaper, just a huge floating cork and Jackson-Pollock-like spattering and structures on the side of the toilet.
This goes to show, also Solifugia goes through great lengths to give the fans what they want: a primal distorted sound directly from the very depths of hell.
And that there was not a single 4-layer piece of toilet paper to be found, it strengthens us in our believe that these guys are made out of the right metal stuff. They gladly wipe their bottoms with society, police and authority at the same time.
This formation isn’t afraid of anything or anyone. Not even the Grimm Reaper himself. They lack any form of pity and human dignity. All they have to offer is an adipose sound, and a smack in your face if you ever should ask for it.
Preferably they like to push a blunt knife even deeper in the gaping wound: ‘no more warmth to give…time to die’ Your meaningless life according to Solifugia.
Just goes to show: Stephen King, Edgar Allan Poe, Hieronymus Bosch and the guys from Morbid Angel would do it in their pants with chattering teeth, crying like little boys who are missing their mothers, listening to the doom Solifugia spread around Friday evening in the streets of Ghent.
When all is said and done
You know you’ve lost yourself
Your will to live
A few years of existence,
eternity to spend in oblivion and nothingness
Yeah, but why?
That’s what we asked ourselves when things became really dangerous.
That was when Peter, the lead vocalist, announced that he was going to fist the devil. Luckily this was an unfortunate misunderstanding. Because one doesn’t fist the devil without far reaching and painful consequences. Many a forearm, mostly from inexperienced would be satanists have been ripped off in doing so ever since the dark ages.
In short: Solifugia is great fun for everyone with a metal heart. And The Ultimate Promise Of Evil is not a lose promise, it redeems the expectations. Live they sound like a tight rope around the neck. The perfect soundtrack for the Trump-era.
We already knew they had talent, but after their unwieldy debut Araneae Attack, and the sputtering Rampage Of Brutal Revenge, they finally are becoming a band that effortlessly can compete with the more influential death metal and doom from the Scandinavian countries.
Buy this record!