Release: February 5 2007
Label: Candlelight Records
Avantgenre: Black Furzing Metal
Official site: None
Review online since: 18.12.2007 / 16:57:30
"Furze" is the name of the Blade on the Reaper's scythe - the one and only trademark of the one and only Reaper, made "music". Woe J. Reaper, sole member of Furze, began back in 1996 (when black metal, according to the Reaper, died). HE is the only one who knows the Truth. UTD, which is the third Furze volume (excluding demos, a 7" and a 10"), is not an album but a split cd, with Furze and Furze. The two sides are called Beneath the Odd-Edge Sounds to the Twilight Contract of the Black Fascist and The Wealth of the Penetration in the Abstract Paradigmas of Satan (consider the taste of the titles, that is the taste of the Furze). Again taking up the black flame of metal from Trident Autocrat (2000), rather than the doomier aspects of Necromanzee Cogent (2003) - though slowing down a couple of times - this is some violent stuff.
What is? Harsh scrawny sound, horrifyingly necro, though not at all unprofessional and bedroomy but rather elaborate, like a mix of ULVER's Vargnatt and Nattens Madrigal. It is at many times a hard listen; at low volume incomprehensible, at high volume unbearable (especially if you're a cat, it seems), always confusing - I still don't get many parts of it, despite a dozen sit-throughs. Is this negative? For some, probably. Furze means many obstacles. But obstacles mean rewards for the persevering.
UTD envelops several facets of black metal art (yes it is art). Spite and hateful, melancholy and solitude, fierce and in grief, tearing parts from the Reaper's soul and showing us, as someone put it. But still something you have NEVER heard before (yes, never heard before). Woe J. Reaper longs for the days when black metal was "alive" (1986-96), but takes black metal to strange places it has never seen before. Maniacal dancing of ghouls eating mushrooms and nasty witches with bad teeth boiling frogs and herbs into strange concoctions. The scary visions of a deranged mind drinking tea (the TEA is of UTMOST importance) and listening to BLACK SABBATH and HELLHAMMER, calming down after pounding Feeble Christian Cretins with a hammer from hell at a black Sabbath.
Woe's vocals are... unsettling. Hysterical screams, retarded murmurs, ghastly whispers, the nasty drool of something wanting you really unwell - not satanic but folkloric and very old. Like a pissed-off little demon trapped in a rusty cage, or a ghost from the deepest pit of your soul (or from beyond) beckoning to you in a feverish jimsonweed-induced dream... What is also interesting and unusual: he actually PLAYS the bass, against all black metal traditions - and in a peculiar fashion too, moving about with a mind of its own (as does every instrument the Reaper molest). Furze is not self-consciousness, not artsy pretensions, just the chaos of unhinged creativity and obsession with a non-intellectual dark side - raw black energy vibrating through the whole of the Reaper not because he WANTS to but because he HAS to. And it's quite mesmerizing too, the whole of the Entity of the Reaper - the Truth and the Blade. The Completeness of the Creations. Need. To. Be. Heard. ...and Seen and Smelt And Felt and Tasted.
To Torture Them Beyond Death Is The Heaven They Deserve
Shadowstench, Deathpace; we're on course!
On the behalf of Eternal Pride; I shadowcast the Very Map of it
[Note: The cover shown belongs to "Beneath...". The cover for "The Wealth" - appearantly painted by Woe's father in 1975 - is not for me to find online. And the Name of the Blade probably refers to the Plant, rather than the Gas, you Germans.]
Side DEATH (Beneath The Odd-Edge Sounds To The Twilight Contract Of The Black Fascist):
1. A Life About My Sabbath
2. Demonic Order In The Eternal Fascist's Hall
3. Beneath The Wings Of The Black Vomit Above
4. The Deeds That Grasp To The Candle's Shade
Side DEVIL (The Wealth Of The Penetration In The Abstract Paradigmas Of Satan):
5. Mandragora Officinarum
7. Deep In The Pot Of Fresh Antipodal Weave
8. Djerve Djevel