Opening: The First Hymn Awakens

The moment a listener hits play on Poems of Spellcraft, the first hymn, 1919 Despair, bursts forth with a haunting symphonic start. It feels eerie yet enchanting, like shadows dancing in moonlight. The music then shifts smoothly. Guitars, drums, and vocals join in. They weave together like ancient chants, casting spells into the air.

Invocation of Style and Spirit

As the album unfolds across its six hymns, the listener’s ears and spirit dive deep into a world of mystery, shadow, and timeless glory. Think of the wild anger from Gehenna‘s early days. The icy atmosphere of Enslaved, mixed with the fantastical storytelling of Bal-Sagoth. Draculum pulls these threads into their own fierce style of extreme metal. The result hits hard and pulls you in. Raw energy fills the space, striking like a storm breaking loose.

Their musical world drips with magic and loneliness. The band created it alone, calling on forest spirits and lost old stories. Atmospheric black metal rules here. It moves like a ritual, slow and steady. Textures wrap around you, like a binding spell.

Duration and Descent

Poems of Spellcraft stretches over thirty-nine minutes. It channels dark guitar lines, blackened vocals, spellbound synths, hidden tales of the occult, and constant drive. Violence meets deep soak-in quality. Each hymn builds on the last. Each hymn stands alone—wicked, shadowed, and sovereign. Evil threads through them all, sinful and deep black.

Each hymn casts a spell over time. Despair hangs heavy. Mystery swirls. Scenes play out like visions cast in smoke.

Ritual Production and Raw Devilmanship

Poems of Spellcraft grabs the raw heart of 1990s black metal. That era’s sound was rough, unrefined, and straight from the gut. No slick layers here. The band skips heavy polish on purpose. This lets the core forces—wild and pure—mould the noise. Raw edges bite. Emotions flood out fast and true.

The mix stays simple and airy. No shine, no gloss—just ritual breath and raw pulse. No clean studio tricks. Space lets sounds breathe. Depth pulls you under, like fog on a moor.

What ties it is the band’s sharp devilmanship skill. They shape perfect builds, from instruments to full flow. Notes lock like bones in a ritual skeleton. Rhythms pulse like heartbeats in the dark.

Draculum forge their trail through dark storms and grand, deathly power

Instrumental Anatomy of the Rite

Draculum’s touch spins a rough, airy web of black metal. Every guitar note, every drum hit, every odd sound plays its part in the rite. 

Draculum’s guitars summon icy, flowing tremolo lines. They shiver cold. Now and then, heavy doom chords drag slow. Riff styles nod to old Gehenna phrasing—sharp and biting. Layering recalls early Enslaved, with rhythm twists that unsettle. Builds echo Bal-Sagoth’s story arcs, dramatic and swelling.

Hymns such as “1917 A Garden” and “1914 A Spell” bring clean guitar parts. They cut through the storm, adding heart and layers. Jarring chords clash now and then. High squeals pierce, sparking chaos and rush.

Draculum’s bass lines hum warm, a bit fuzzy. They sit low in the mix. No showy leads here. It grounds the chaos, like roots in soil. Mostly, bass shadows guitar roots. It boosts the steady ritual beat. Quiet power holds it all. Never steals the light—always the base.

The drums feel alive and rough. Ritual steps guide them—no fake triggers or perfect timing. Blast beats rage in “1919 Despair” and “1925 The Cats.” They whip up wild anger. Slow tom rolls and cymbal sweeps in “1915 Unda” roll like waves crashing. Rare snare snaps in “1914 A Spell” mark slow ceremony steps.

The drums breathe in open space. You hear the space, not a boxed-in booth. It pulls you into the circle, not some lab.