Antania — 3AM 666 Review
Antania, an American doom bass duo, unleashed “3AM 666,” on June 20th, 2025 via The Triad Rec—a brutal baptism in doom bass and industrial grime—a sonic ritual of cursed machinery, where distortion breathes dread and rhythm marches like a bloodstained procession.
The First Three Sins, The Summary
The Fourth Sin, Overall Discussion
Opening: The Descent Begins
As soon as the listener presses that play button on Antania’s 3AM 666, they step into a dark, foreboding world. This isn’t music for the faint of heart. It’s a descent into chaos. Chaos that sounds like ten hymns chanted from the depths of hell.
These tracks aren’t meant to soothe or relax; they are brutal, raw, and unapologetically heavy. They evoke images of shadowy rituals and bloodstained ceremonies—crafted for those drawn to distortion, evil beats, and the unhinged current of electronica. Each song feels like a portal to a nightmare—a sonic séance forged in the fires of decay and ritual madness.
Crafted in Filth, Summoned by Synth
Antania’s 3AM 666 is no ordinary collection of sounds. Instead, it is a carefully crafted experience—ten hymns that crash through your senses with death metal aggression, doom-bass, and industrial filth, as if summoned straight from a blood-soaked ritual circle at the very edge of sanity. There are no guitars here; instead, the soundscape is forged from weaponised synthesisers, distorted to resemble a cursed instrumental of destruction.
The synths pulse with menace, wrapped in layers of doom-laden bass lines and black static that seems to crawl inside your head. It feels like a dark incantation, pulled straight from the ether by forces beyond understanding.
A Fusion of Fury
Antania’s 3AM 666 is a fusion of brutal sound and extreme influences. It mixes (as mentioned) elements of death metal, electronica, doom metal and industrial—a cocktail of virus-laced-chaos. Again, don’t expect riffs or traditional guitar lines. Instead, the power lies in the distorted synths, the swelling sub-bass, and the raw, lo-fi recording that captures the grime and grit of a ritual performed in the dead hours of night.
Antania’s atmosphere is thick with dread, like an unholy ceremony taking place in a basement, illuminated only by flickering fluorescent lights, with shadows dances on the walls. It’s a visceral, haunting experience that feels deliberately rough and unpolished, where muddy low-end textures become part of the art, not flaws.
Imperfection as Incantation
What makes 3AM 666 stand out is its raw aesthetic matched with high-level craft. Each track is a dark fruit of art in primal sound design. The distortion isn’t just for effect—it’s woven into the fabric of the music, adding layers of tension and narrative texture. These sounds evoke filth, abrasion, and decay—never polished or sanitised. The entire record breathes with a lo-fi ethos, as if recorded in a basement with no intention of perfection. It’s perfection in its imperfection, echoing the chaotic beauty of a ritual gone off-script.
Hymns of Malice and Devotion
The listener will find that every song on 3AM 666 is different, yet they all share a common voice—one of menace and unrelenting darkness. For example, tracks like Pigz, Stalker, and Blood Love drip with malice. They reference serial killers, true crime, and dark obsessions that twist into lethal rituals. Pigz spirals with disturbing imagery, while Stalker feels like an ominous chase through shadowy streets. Blood Love drips with grotesque allure, turning obsession into deadly devotion. Then there is the reinterpretation of Static-X’s Cold, transformed into a slow, funeral dirge played beneath flickering fluorescent lights, evoking a sense of mourning and regret.
Each track seems built from a collection of feral sounds—scraped samples, processed screams, melted mechanical tones—all stitched together into something brutal and haunting. It’s as if the very fabric of the album is spun from audio scraps and discarded noise. This approach heightens the sense of chaos, making every song feel like a ritual crafted from broken electronics and primal energy.
The Relic’s Core & Percussion as Procession
At the core, 3AM 666 is a sonic relic, not just music. It’s a product of deliberate craft combined with chaos. The heavy-pulsating synths act as the main melody carriers, replacing the traditional guitars with tools of sonic violence. These synths cut through the silence like rusty knives, guided by Dr. Luna’s ritualistic mind and devilmanship. They carve out dark melodies that feel like incantations, pulling the listener deeper into a ritualistic nightmare.
Beneath this, the structural backbone is held by raw sub-bass—vibrations so deep they create a physical pressure on the chest, a rumbling force like tectonic plates shifting beneath a funeral pyre. The programmed drums are sparse, slow, ceremonial—designed to create dread rather than dance. Twisting snares and industrial pulses pulse minimally but with purpose, every beat feeling like a step in a bloodstained ritual.
The Voice Behind the Veil
Kali Mortem’s vocals and devilmanship add an extra layer of depravity. Her delivery is a blackened vocal style that ranges from snarls to guttural growls, and sardonic, and sounding almost performative—like she’s delivering a sermon from behind a bloodstained veil. Her lyrics are slow, stark, and deliberately grotesque, often referencing serial killers, satanic rites, or obsessive love gone violently wrong. Furthermore, her voice conjures images of shadowy rites and dark incantations, each word dripping with menace.
There are rare moments when her voice layers with others, creating ghostly echoes that bounce like screams in a tomb—adding to the spectral atmosphere.
Echoes in the Void
In the end, 3AM 666 isn’t simply music—it’s an invocation. An attempt to conjure something from the void. Each track feels summoned, not composed; each breath and scream a scarlet thread in a tapestry of obsession and death. It’s an unsettling fruit of art—built on raw sound and dark intent.
Listening feels like being dragged into a ritual from which there is no escape—each note crafted with devils’ craft and executed with precision. It is a record that leaves you haunted, craving the darkness it so brutally unveils.
Final Benediction: Descent into Closure
As 3AM 666 exhales its last distorted breath, we extend the deepest gratitude to The Triad Rec for granting us passage into this infernal soundscape. What began as a brutal baptism of doom bass and machine ritual now spirals toward its conclusion. We now descend into the final three sins, the closing incantations that will seal this review in ritual filth and spectral devotion.
The Fifth Sin, The Memorabilia
The Sixth Sin, The Artwork
The Seventh Sin, Disrelish
Antania
Dr. Luna – responsible for production, programming, and sonic architecture.
Kali Mortem – delivers vocals and lyrical content.