Draculum’s debut conjures a liturgy of shadows, where spellcraft becomes sound and the void sings back. “Each verse is a vessel”
Draculum’s debut conjures a liturgy of shadows, where spellcraft becomes sound and the void sings back. “Each verse is a vessel”
Crux Ex channels depressive black metal into ambient ritual, summoning grief, decay, sonic introspection, and ceremonial weight.
Norkh, old school rules in their music. Raw, untainted black metal of the early 90s — occasional hint at thrash, death, doom, or even crust.
Abadir, a sonic fracture—carved in pagan fire and mythic defiance, a rupture that scorches through cosmic architecture with raw intent.
Eunoe, that blends most of the metrics of modern and elderly Black Metal by combining some nuances of other metal genres.
Tårfödd is a cold, cinematic descent into grief—where depressive black metal meets progressive and atmosphere nuance.
Mehrwertsteuer, a thematic journey across nine tracks. It blends perfectly sharp economic satire with a visceral apocalyptic metal sound.
Azamoth, scorched hymn of war—chaotic, cinematic, and unrelenting, this black metal opus demands full surrender
Diaballein channel the ruinous divine. Each passage they summon feels carved from sanctified ash—ritual, not performance.
Arallu, is a blistering and emotionally charged black metal track that channels real-life trauma into sonic catharsis.