Impressions... The Black Virgin is rooted in a personal poem written over two decades ago. Originally conceived as a tribute to the gothic metal pioneers Virgin Black — whose music explored the spiritual and the sublime — the piece gradually evolved into something more intimate: a meditation on suffering, endurance, and what it means to remain human beneath unbearable weight.

The lyrics reinterpret the Christian beatitudes through a darker lens, suggesting that perhaps blessed are those who broke beneath their loads. In this worldview, strength lies not in triumph, but in survival — in the quiet defiance of carrying on when all else seems lost. The haunting echo of Virgin Black’s iconic line, “All is lost but hope”, finds its reflection here: “All else is lost, save hope beyond all death.”

There’s no cathartic release in the end, no redemptive arc — only the stark confession of weariness: “For Lord, no more I am the dead or living – a symptom now, a shadow barely breathing.” And yet, beneath the grief, a subtle thread of comfort emerges: a melodic fragment borrowed from the Gregorian chant “Consolamini, popule meus” — “Be comforted, my people.” Even in desolation, a faint light endures.

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IMPRESSIONS... THE BLACK VIRGIN

I wept last night, a child in dream’s embrace,
I mourned where ancient halls had lost their grace.
Stone-bodied trees fought winds in solemn dance,
while you, wild dogs, just laughed and took your chance.

“Blest is the soul that breaks beneath the load,”
the Lord declared, and gently grace bestowed.
“Though pain may blaze with glory’s final breath,
all else is lost, save hope beyond all death.”

So, lift me from the winter drawing near,
shed just one tear before I disappear.
For Lord, no more I am the dead or living –
a symptom now, a shadow barely breathing.

Horror Sacri

Impressions... The Black Virgin

“Secreta” — Latin for “secret” or “secrets” — takes its name and text from a lesser-known part of the traditional Roman Catholic Mass: a quiet prayer, spoken in a low voice by the priest at the end of the Offertory. On this album, the prayer becomes something more personal and disquieting — a whispered plea for one's enemies, delivered from a soul suspended between forgiveness and fragmentation.

Set to a short liturgical text drawn from the Roman Missal, the piece explores the spiritual paradox of wishing well upon those who have wounded us. That fragile state — where faith confronts betrayal — is captured in the song’s shifting musical language. An eerie orchestral introduction sets the tone, enveloping the listener in unease, before giving way to rhythms that echo the rhythmical asymmetry of Balkan dances. The unconventional time signature distorts any sense of calm, as if the soul itself is reeling.

“Secreta“ is both prayer and disorientation — a sacred ritual filtered through the lens of human vulnerability.

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SECRETA

Oblatis, quaesumus, Domine, placare muneribus: 
et nos ab inimicis nostris clementer eripe.

(We beg You, O Lord, be appeased by these sacrificial offerings: 
and mercifully snatch us away from our enemies.)

Secreta

“Soul Hunt” is one of the most direct and visceral tracks on the album — a relentless vision of unseen warfare, where human souls are the prize in an eternal struggle between forces far greater than ourselves. Based on one of my oldest lyrics ever written, the song captures a world drenched in fear and metaphysical violence. Peace is yearned for but never found.

The verses paint a bleak picture: “It’s all over” declares one line; “Bloodstained icons weep in woe” ends another. These aren’t just poetic images — they’re cries from a world where fragile human lives are tossed into a cosmic battleground beyond comprehension. The music echoes this turmoil with razor-sharp, old-school thrash metal riffing, driving the message home with unrelenting force.

At its heart, “Soul Hunt” forms the eschatological core of the album — a dark framework where the sacred collides with the violent. The Latin chorus, “Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna” (“Deliver me, O Lord, from eternal death”), taken from the Roman Catholic Office of the Dead, becomes more than a liturgical chant. It’s a desperate plea for endurance, for grace, for something to hold onto in the face of annihilation.

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SOUL HUNT

A star fell blazing, torn from the sky,
Ghostfire flickers, years burn dry.
Lunatic echoes are tearing the spheres,
Behind steel gates, the enemy appears.

He winks at me with a hollow stare –
A pupil-less gaze, a frozen glare.
"Come with me," he speaks to me, "behold!
We'll walk in the void like the gods of the old!"

Bell tolls crash on the lead-gray land,
The last fires go out, lost in the sand.
It’s all over – we fade in the tide, 
abandoned island, fortress denied.

Life’s breath is stolen, I drink from the still,
degusting the wine that the ages spill.
Spare me, O Lord, from the hunter’s chase,
Grant me, O Father, a night of grace!

Libera me Domine
de morte eterna! 
(Deliver me, O Lord, 
from eternal death)

The forest echoes from the hunting cries,
Dark shadows creep where the lost souls lie.
A soul hunt is raging deep down below,
bloodstained icons weep in woe.

Soul Hunt

“Miserere” is the sole instrumental piece on the album — a moment of wordless expression that forms a bridge between this release and Darkwave's earlier, fully instrumental works. Deeply rooted in classical influences, it recalls the spirit of Postcommunio (from the Missa Innominata album), yet pushes beyond it with a more turbulent energy.

At the heart of the track lies a neoclassical guitar theme long waiting for its place — a melodic idea that lingered in creative limbo until now. With this album’s emotional landscape in mind, the timing felt right. “Miserere” became its home, transforming the motif into something darker, heavier, and more unrelenting.

While its structure and tone still reflect a sense of reverence, the inclusion of blastbeats breaks away from the restraint of earlier compositions. The result is a piece that’s simultaneously devotional and defiant — a liturgy not of peace, but of inner unrest.

Miserere

“Pacem Meam Do Vobis” closes the album with a paradox: a promise of peace wrapped in the shadow of death. Borrowing its title from the words of Christ in John 14:27 — “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you” — the song meditates on the tension between divine assurance and mortal finality. It’s a farewell not just in scripture, but in sound.

The track begins with apocalyptic brass — evoking the trumpet blasts of Revelation, heralds of both judgment and transcendence. From this dramatic opening, the song unfolds slowly, building with orchestral weight and sacred texts. But just when peace seems within reach, it arrives in the form of a flatline. A heartbeat stops. The listener is left with the chilling realization: in this world, the only peace we can be certain of may come with death.

Yet even here, a deeper meaning flickers beneath the surface. The text drawn from the Secreta for All Saints’ Day reminds us: “The souls of the righteous... seem in the eyes of the foolish to be dead, but they are at peace.” The concluding “Alleluia” — “Praise the Lord” — is not naïve joy, but a stubborn, defiant hope. It echoes the album’s recurring theme, first spoken by Virgin Black: “All is lost but hope.”

Pacem Meam Do Vobis is the sound of finality — and what might lie beyond.

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PACEM MEAM DO VOBIS

Justorum animae in manu Dei sunt, 
et non tanget illos tormentum malitiæ:
Visi sunt oculis insipientium mori: 
illi autem sunt in pace. Alleluia!

(The souls of the righteous are in the hands of God, 
and the torment of malice shall not touch them:
They seem in the eyes of the foolish to be dead, 
but they are at peace. Alleluia!)

Pacem Meam Do Vobis

“Ego mortuus sum” (“I am dead”) marks a violent turning point on the album — a cry from the edge featuring the fierce vocal presence of Fredrik Keith Croona (Against I). Musically, it’s a collision of extremes: progressive structures twist through shifting time signatures before collapsing into relentless staccato grooves, while old-school death metal riffing forms the scorched earth on which the vocals roar.

The song was born in a moment of spiritual rupture — a place where faith felt hollow and rituals failed to heal. Lying on the metaphorical altar brought not peace, but anguish. The lyrics rage against sacred comfort, throwing brutal imagery into the light: Heaven reimagined as a “cesspool of saints”, sanctity as emptiness. It’s raw, it’s defiant — the sound of someone shouting into the void.

Yet amid the fury, a thread of hope weaves through. The chorus draws from Psalm 29: “Domine, clamavi ad te et sanasti me” — “O Lord, I have cried to thee, and thou hast healed me.” Even at the height of spiritual collapse, the possibility of redemption remains — battered but not erased.

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EGO MORTUUS SUM

One final blink until life gets complete,
until God’s grace destroys my melting meat.
Fermenting in the cesspool of the saints,
I pass away through firmamental drains.

Until my wine starts clotting in my mouth
drowning I dive this quietude throughout.
Candles are lit along my road to death,
out of my mouth I inhale my own breath.

Domine, 
Clamavi ad te,
Et sanasti me,
Domine!

(O Lord, 
I have cried to thee, 
and thou hast healed me.
O Lord)

Until I leave my assets far behind
peeling my lifeblood off this mortal mind.
Let loose this fire, enkindle my distress,
let my soul sink in this subversive hex!

One final blink until life gets complete,
laying face-up over the altar sheet.
My facial features under gleaming stars
this fake subsistence one by one disbarks.

Ego Mortuus Sum

“Messiah of Shrinking Shores” unfolds like a sorrowful parable — the story of a soul who gave everything, only to be abandoned by both Heaven and Earth. Written in poetic form years ago, the lyrics speak in third person, echoing the voice of someone who once carried the burdens of others, now discarded, worn down, and left with nothing but silence. “The ashtray of God” — a chilling metaphor for spiritual obsolescence — captures the depth of his disillusionment, culminating in the heartbreaking surrender: “Let me sink into the flood.”

This song gives voice to that universal moment when we feel used up, overlooked, and forgotten — when the world no longer sees us as valuable, only convenient. Hungarian vocalist Fati Urbán lends her angelic, haunting tone to these emotions, adding an ethereal fragility that elevates the pain into something strangely beautiful.

Though the song carries the atmosphere of gothic and doom influences, it never settles into one mood. Progressive metal elements weave through its structure — the intro and outro riffs pulse with complex time signatures, and the chorus rides on staccato rhythms that resist collapse. It's both a lament and a protest; a farewell and a final cry for meaning.

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MESSIAH OF SHRINKING SHORES

He clung with nails of wood so tight,
Scratching the fresco-black of night.
Obscured he wrote a gospel’s rhyme, 
Ashtray of God, clandestine grime.

All that he saw, all fails did stay,
No skyey dew would fall his way,
breathing desert dust-eating life,
rotten finger-flesh, he played a strife.

If he was saved, he tore his crown,
blood-stained tears fall, like storm pour down,
showing his fake gloriole,
he will baptize you, he will bury.

And as he climbed the western sky,
the stars within themselves did die,
"Embrace me now, and take my blood” 
said “Let me sink into the flood."

Messiah of Shrinking Shores

Dies Irae — "The Day of Wrath" — draws its name and inspiration from the iconic medieval Latin hymn that envisions the Last Judgment: a cataclysmic reckoning where the trumpet sounds, the dead rise, and every soul stands trial before an all-powerful Judge. Traditionally sung at Catholic Requiem Masses, this ancient text has haunted Western music and imagination for centuries, inspiring giants like Mozart and Verdi to transform it into timeless works of art.

This reinterpretation takes a more critical and personal path. Rather than presenting the full, fire-and-brimstone narrative, the track distills the original into select verses — fragments that echo through the music like distant voices from a troubled past. The piece challenges the deeply rooted notion of God as a merciless arbiter, replacing fear with reflection. In doing so, it questions how such doctrines have shaped our inner world — replacing love with dread, grace with guilt.

The composition opens and closes with solemn church organ passages, framing the piece like the arches of a ruined cathedral. The final organ reprise, however, carries a subtle shift — a glimmer of hope, as if the weight of centuries-old judgment might finally give way to something more compassionate.

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DIES IRAE 

Dies irae, dies illa
Solvet sæclum in favilla.

Quantus tremor est futurus
Quando iudex est venturus.

Liber scriptus proferetur,
in quo totum continetur.

Iudex ergo cum sedebit,
quidquid latet apparebit.

(The day of wrath, that day,
will dissolve the world in ashes.

How great will be the quaking,
when the Judge is about to come!

The written book will be brought forth,
in which all is contained.

When therefore the Judge will sit,
whatever lies hidden, will appear.)

Dies Irae

Written & Recorded @ Studio B 

Push Back Harder 
Fight Your Demons
Learn To Laugh At Yourself


HATE CATZ 4 EVA

PLODDING

Der Butzemann, the 'Boogeyman', is dancing / around in our house, / he shakes himself, he shakes himself, / he throws his little sack around...
[from German folklore, Der Butzemann, a faceless goblin, hides in boxes and closets, waiting to frighten children who don't go to sleep]
------
LYRICS:
------
Es tanzt ein Bi-Ba-Butzemann
in unserm Haus herum,
er rüttelt sich, er schüttelt sich,
er wirft sein Säcklein um.

Once upon a time
There was a scared little kid
Hiding in the closets-
Boxes where the Butzemann lived

Darkness filled his mind
With shadows whispering pain
So he closed his eyes
Pretending to be dead

Now that boy’s a man
Who sees the truth in everything
Believing every day in death
The devils in disguise

He hides in plywood coffins
Painted in cyanide
The truth be told-
He sold his soul
For nothing!
Sold his soul for nothing!
Sold his soul for nothing...much!
Nichts geändert!
Nothing much has changed!

Way back, the darkened hallways
Were laced with silent dread
Voices cloaked in shadows
Crawling inside your head

You look so strong
You fight the fight
But deep inside
You’re contrite
Your frame grows thin
Your shoulders cave
You’re halfway in
A shallow grave

Nothing much has changed!
You’re still afraid
Afraid you’re still that kid!
For nothing
Nichts geändert
Nothing much has changed!

Butzemann… Butzemann…
He’s still watching...
Butzemann… Butzemann…
He’s still hunting...

NOTHING!
NOTHING MUCH HAS CHANGED!
NICHTS GEÄNDERT!

Nothing
Nothing much has changed 
You're still afraid 
Afraid you're still that kid 
For nothing 
Nichts geandert
Nothing much has changed

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BUTZEMANN | BOOGEYMAN

Trenches (AI)

(0:00) deftones - milk of the madonna [official audio].m4a
(3:53) Metallica - The End Of The Line.m4a
(11:26) Metallica - Master of Puppets (Remastered).m4a
(19:27) Judas Priest - Painkiller (Official Lyric Video).m4a
(25:09) Ozzy Osbourne - No More Tears (Official Audio).m4a
(31:50) Judas Priest - The Hellion/Electric Eye.m4a
(35:43) Green Day - Jesus of Suburbia (Official Audio).m4a
(44:03) Judas Priest - Beyond the Realms of Death (Audio).m4a
(49:14) Alice In Chains - Rooster.m4a
(54:38) Megadeth - Angry Again.m4a
(58:17) Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here.m4a

Cullen Shaluk 3

New demo stepping a little outside of my comfort area (slow to mid tempos) and kicking it into a higher gear to add a thrash element to the mix

Death/Thrash Demo

Crushed and Mangled (album)

LYRICS:
Sacred… Rust.  
You're… Dust.  
Sacred… Rust.  
You're… Dust.  
I… will… grind… you… down.

In the cracks of time
I hunt your name 

Through the walls of night
I bring the flame

Steel in my hands
Fire in my breath 
I will cut your cord 
To the jaws of death

Every shard, every sin
Every secret you trust  
I will drag through the mire
I will grind-
Into dust 

Hor-crux! 
Split the soul, I crush the trust!  
Hor-crux! 
Grind to cursed rust and dust!  
Hor-crux! 
Your immortality is mine to break!  

Your crown is cracked
Your throne is ash 

I tear through your gates 
In a storm’s backlash

No shadow to hide
No ghost to deceive  
The steel in my veins 
Will not let you breathe 

I see you in the marrow of the earth.  
I feel you in the last breath of the dying.  
Your chains have rusted in my hands.  
And I will break them.
One by one.

Break it, smash it, burn it, shatter,  
All your whispers turn to clatter,  
No more soul to hide inside,  
This is where your curse has died!  
Cracks are widening, blood ignites,  
End of your unholy rites,  
Every piece will turn to rot,  
Immortality forgot!  

Sechs… 
Splitter… 
Seelenbruch...
Lux extenebris… 
Mortem eternum

Hor-crux! 
Split the soul, I crush the trust!  
Hor-crux! 
Grind to cursed rust and dust!  
Hor-crux! 
Your immortality is mine to break!  

Sacred… Rust.  
You're… Dust.  
Sacred… Rust.  
You're… Dust.  

----------







HORCRUX!

Obscurion - Devastating Blow to the Mouth

tg : t.me/goreprojects
SLAM/GOREGRIND SOLO PROJECT FROM MOLDOVA
14 yo Goregrind artist making songs in his room

SINCERE IMPOSTER writes, performs and/or produces a curious mixture of New Wave, Dance, EDM, Folk Rock, Metal, Art Pop, Electro, Dreamwave & Experimental World Pop. Collectively, it's a genre known as QUIRKPOP --- Music that makes you say, "What the hell is this?"

The band currently consists of two members, both living within the same body, sharing a similar existence. They identify as Danielle & Dave. They are both psychologically and musically confused. However, both are extremely and unapologetically sincere. 

Influences include Weird Al, Nathan Fielder, David Lynch, T-Pain and T-Swift. Their favorite inventions are the vacuum and the peach pitter. Their father is simply known as Vessel... who may be an entity or a god.



Darkwave is my experimental music project built on the backbone of old-school metal riffs, with an outlook to a wide variety of musical scenes. Despite its intimate connections with progressive – and even thrash – metal, the musical dynamics I try to accomplish in Darkwave often deviates from the classical concept of the genre (e.g. the catching tempo generated by tight rhythmicity), and incorporates elements with significantly different tonal and emotional characteristics, ranging from thrash, power, doom or symphonic metal themes to electronic, classical or even jazz elements.

Such a diverse mixture of different styles is seldom intentional, but rather a mixture of instinctual and intentional elements reflecting the character of the composer and the impact of influences shaping the songwriting process. Balancing on the razor-sharp edge between these domains of human consciousness, I think it’s always revealing to indentify the composer’s primary influences to understand the core philosophy behind the final product. Despite their essential innervation with thrash metal, my main influences come from somewhere far beyond, from the distant realms of hard rock, NWOBHM (New Wave of British Heavy Metal), and – in certain extent – from classical (or even gregorian) music. I see it as some kind of an evolutionary process: first it was the intensity, then the complexity of the music that grabbed my attention and put a significant emphasis on my way of looking at all things music. Regarding the metal frontrunners, the complexity of the Shermann-Denner duo’s guitarwork as well as the dark, monumental, epic atmosphere of Tony Iommi‘s musical skyscrapers clearly shaped my personal attitude to music. Still, the artistic genius of the late Jon Lord (who aimed at building bridges between “old” and “new”, traditional and modern) was that characteristical influence that put its almost deterministic mark on my musical taste and creations. I started to listen to bands that somehow unite various territories of the world of music: it felt amazing to listen to Mekong Delta’s Suite for Group and Orchestra or the jazz-metal fusions by Atheist until the point that I could finally identify a third essential element besides intensity and complexity: the gloomy, epic, emotional (sometimes sad) and monumental atmosphere: something that I could find so often not only in music, but also in my favorite books and poems. And this is that exact point, where the intentional and instinctual motifs become somewhat indistinguishable from each other, and form a distinct entity of thoughts, feelings, desires and aims that might be characterized as my personal attitude to music, art – and in general, life.

It’s not that hard to grip the essence of that attitude. I tend to agree with G. K. Chesterton‘s paradoxical jeremiad from 1905 on the loss of universals (“…we are more and more to discuss details in art, politics, literature… Everything matters — except everything.“) and accept that it’s always the core philosophy behind art (or “everything“…) that we must understand, if we ever want to grab the creator’s personality that is mirrored in the final product. The secondary details in composition, performance or production are merely consequences of this primary attitude or basic approach behind the creative process. My primary aim with Darkwave has always been (and will ever be) nothing else but to formulate, express and transmit feelings and thoughts without words, while constantly realizing that there exists nothing more suitable to facilitate this communication between human souls than music itself.

“When words fail, music speaks.”

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New tracks tagged #Thrash METAL