Furzt

This may very well be the strangest black metal album ever recorded. Sure, it’s original but that doesn’t necessarily make it good. The guitars sound almost like a confused punk rock carnival at a distance, every riff sounding as if it originated from a DIY axe made from a large tin can and a rickety weed whacker on overdrive amplified via Victrola. They likely recorded this primitive (and no doubt, occult) instrument with a boom box, in a trashcan, on mono. Then there’s the conceptual realm where this contract of the black fascist and abstract paradigms of Satan mumbo jumbo reigns in all the God-hating hypocrisy that comes with the territory. It’s hard not to wonder what these guys do in their spare time (other than fashioning the aforementioned occult instruments.) They don’t seem like the D&D types — those guys mostly listen to Rhapsody. While this mystery remains, one can gather there’s a lot of leisure in Furzt’s world, as each track is unfortunately long. This makes sense, since guys as dark and evil as "the reaper” probably prefer prolonged pain. This is the kind of record you’d play at a joke black metal party. Bring your own sacrificial animal.