"Wings of Tzinacan"

by Octopi Mills

As “The Uprising” begins, it is damned old doom I think I hear, with old smothered vocals that are weird and strange; and then there is something that sounds like non-domesticated reptilian and something that sounds monstrous, and this caught me by surprise like an old sprung bear trap to the mind....

The vocals are like a strange, exotic lycanthropy the fellow has not outright contracted but invoked, but more in a shamanic sense; as if power animal totems elevate into stranger beings that could be like star flung demons in an Conan tale. "Our Lord, The Flayed One" has many strange elements and there is a sound like a nest of hive demons set to swarm with masterful instrumentation and I note the crisp cymbals and what they do. There are things happening like organ sounding keys that crop up from time to time to accent the adornments, and the whole thing is fashioned like a Atlantean crown set with different appointments, already making it easily one of the better albums I have heard in a long time...

The percussion was handled well, and I know I am coming across as a telemarketer when I say such things into the receiver, and in a golden age of salesmen and con artists who slip through negligent cracks and spaces we failed to seal. There is nearly a Pink Floyd sounding moment in "Sacred Flame" and I have noted many fleeting moments where they have used great transient passages that would make the listener return to the music many times. The album has an atmosphere of opened portals all around, like a many layered onion vortex one might find in an attic where at first the tenants suspected something as common as red wasps or furry hornets, only to find a more sinister swarm- and this is the genius of the proprietors who have sold us this infested house of many doors and metaphors .

 "Tzinacan's Rising" is just another brilliant passage as the album travels by the mercy of your mind into other things, using it as a wanderer uses an old criss-cross of roads to trample by foot into "Death Whistle" which is like a shamanic experience in itself, and when I say it I am meaning the words. Again I note the percussion in a way that I never do, and it must be given due. The final song is nearly ambient at times and ritualistic and I realize I have heard something unique on this morning; something that is in the album of the last few years or more category. Where others fail, Albez Duz find new dimensions in the exploration of human experience, creating a feeling that one might get from drugs without the hassle of dealers or the actual side effects attributed to messy chemicals and this is the essence of a ritual in itself.