" Kata Ton Daimona Eaytoy"

By Octopi Mills

Good old Rotting Christ has returned with some good, wholesome family fun, taking that album title that family man Aleister Crowley, The Great Best 666, once championed- that familar rede of "Do what thou Wilt". The music surrounds the listener like some sort of strange mass, and evokes old temples and fallen societies, taking a traveler out of the mind and unveiling lands and excavating rich, rotting  grounds of both an ancient and fantastical find. The vocals' imperial chant  brings forward a mysticism that almost recalls something like Babylon, or a dream travel to Sumeria at times, and in an almost universal archetype of an occult language. It seems to me that there is something of a Rite performed in the music and lyrics, and one that is arranged in a like manner; as if they are on a call and have a purpose. There is the familiar guitar work, not repeated in itself, but the trademark melodic, metallic leads and the mastery of the rhythm strings, in accordance to the will of the artist, and building the temple stones on the ground work prepared in the past. There are elements of eastern things in the instrumentation, wild things that at times betray their origins, and sound like desert birds or magical horns, and it is done in brief manners and in reservation. It is said there are real reeds employed as well as horns, and this gives a certain dimension to the voyage.

There is almost a feel of Ancient Greece in the work, something Rotting Christ has always had in the soul, though there are some Roman type things that sound as if militant. Traces of many things are there without loosing the lustful, willful fire of this brazier that burns darkly within heart of the music. There are brothers involved in the making of the music, and surely this lends some family values to this affair. It is without saying one will find a devilish element to the whole album, as ever has been.

"Russulka" shows the singer's quest to turn word to flesh, and he has excelled in his abilities to use many different voicings- from sounds like round bellowing devils to other characters that leave their forms open to the listener's tender is like a soft cabbage leafing, the open minds' metaphoric wrappings. One is exposed to dead gods and old tongues, and to forms that shine like old bronze daemons amidst the lamp light. The cap to the jug is something that comes with the very subject matter, and is loosened on the recording.

Ah, That license to do what you will-that old quest for  empowerment and inner illumination is present here in the very soul of the recording. Rotting Christ has risen as a dangerous force through their own age and works, with an authentic warrior spirit for their craft.