Sodomic Baptism — Contra Christum Review

Formed in 2013, Sodomic Baptism is a Belarusian Death Metal sect whose second full-length ritual, “Contra Christum,” was unleashed on June 20th, 2025, via Brutal Records and Bizarre Leprous Production.

Sodomic Baptism, Contra Christum Review: This review will evaluate every aspect of the album, from its intricate musical composition to its production. Our analysis will provide valuable insights to help you determine if this album is worth adding to your collection.

The First Three Sins, The Summary

The First Sin, The Strings/Keys: Tremolo-picked assaults clash with doom-laced breakdowns, shifting unpredictably like incantations mid-rite. The bass lurches beneath it all, thickening the ceremonial haze. The Second Sin, The Vocals: Guttural, commanding, spectral—vocals emerge like voices from the abyss. They don’t narrate—they summon. The Third Sin—The Percussions: Blast beats erupt like ritual fire: rapid, punishing strikes that drive the invocation. Every hit feels like a hammering of unholy intent.

The Fourth Sin, Overall Discussion

Opening: The Summons Begins

Antipsalm: Purification Inthrough Antichrist begins its dark ritual the moment the listener presses play. These opening sounds aren’t just music — they’re a sonic summons, a command to enter a realm soaked in shadow. The soundscape that unfolds is bleak and haunted, like echoes from an abandoned chapel deep beneath the earth.

It opens a portal into the world of Sodomic Baptism — a place where chaos reigns and brutality is king. This isn’t merely an introduction; it’s a ceremonial spark that ignites the descent into darkness, setting the tone for what lies ahead: a journey through unholy sound and raw intensity.

Prayers of Ruin

As Contra Christum surges forward into Posthumous Rebirth, the atmosphere deepens. The track unfurls into a series of savage incantations. Each of these nine hymns acts as a brutal prayer to chaos, death, and rebellion. They’re driven by apocalyptic fervour, with every riff and blast of percussion sounding like a war cry. The music is highly technical, crafted with precision and devilmanship. The percussion is bone-shattering — explosive, ritualistic drums pounding relentlessly to hammer home the album’s dark message.

This isn’t metal built solely to invoke violence — it’s a calculated and ruthless expression of sonic aggression. Sodomic Baptism channel both old-school brutality and extreme experimentation, delivering chaos with sharpened intent.

Calculated Chaos

They marry two ends of the metal spectrum — classic savagery and avant-garde extremity. Nothing about it feels simple or predictable; every note is placed with purpose in an elaborate tapestry of noise. The chaos is controlled, designed with razor-sharp focus, giving it the feel of deliberate divine disorder. It’s the sound of a ritual gone wild — a sonic orgy of destruction that defies expectation while maintaining ruthless discipline.

Rituals Beneath the Flesh

Spanning just thirty-five minutes, Sodomic Baptism‘s Contra Christum unleashes an unholy storm. The music is a chaotic weave of instrumental layers that interact disturbingly, yet with deliberate precision. Gritty, raw, and fiercely crafted, it resembles a sacrilegious midnight rite performed in the deepest shadows of the underground. The production isn’t polished — it’s filthy and visceral, like sandpaper scraping raw flesh. This rawness preserves the old-school death metal feel while allowing each instrument to pierce the dense mix with clarity.

Riffs of Ritual and Wrath

Sodomic Baptism‘s guitars craft a relentless barrage of riffs that seem to possess their own will. They shift unpredictably between tremolo-picked assaults and slower, doom-laced breakdowns. There’s a ritual rhythm to the phrasing — ancient chants laced with violence. Solos are rare but impactful: dissonant, angular, and surgical. More sonic knife than melodic relief. The bass thickens the atmosphere, often mirroring the guitar to build a monolithic wall of sound.

In slower passages — especially on Belial: The Path to Knowledge of the Abyss — the bass pulses like an underground heartbeat, pulling the listener deeper into darkness.

Rhythms of the Infernal March

Sodomic Baptism‘s drums propel the chaos with unrelenting blast beats — rapid, punishing strikes that evoke frenzied invocation. The tempo shifts typically, mirroring ritual phases: wild summoning gives way to solemn descent. The snare is razor-sharp, cutting through the mix with each crack. The kick drum thrums like a buried heartbeat, and cymbals shimmer with chaotic punctuation, used more to signal shifts than maintain rhythm.

Voices from the Abyss

Vocals are guttural, commanding, and spectral — voices summoned from some damned chamber. Delivered with ritualistic authority, they seem to channel demonic spirits. Layered vocals — sometimes double-tracked or echoing across the mix — conjure an illusion of demonic multiplicity. It’s a chorus of shadows. Lyrically, it’s a renunciation of light, transcendence through chaos, and rebellion against divine order. These are proclamations, not lyrics — uttered with conviction and backed by destruction.

Contra Christum is more than music. It’s a fruit of art — a ceremonial desecration. A structured liturgy of inversion — where each track performs a blasphemous rite designed to unravel the sacred and rebuild it in shadow.

Closing: The Threshold of Transcendence

The finale arrives with The Transcendence of Existence — a grand, apocalyptic conclusion that blends ritualistic sounds with unfiltered chaos. Unholy monks chant alongside crushing riffs and rhythmic beats. The growls drip with menace before giving way to haunting, clean vocals — eerie, solemn, and unsettling. Then comes the birdsong — a piercing contrast that hints at an uneasy peace after the storm.

This closing piece leaves the listener suspended between worlds: chaos and calm, destruction and something that eerily resembles transcendence. We want to give a shoutout to Brutal Records for letting us review Sodomic Baptism‘s Contra Christum. Now, we are going to conclude the review by talking about the final three sins and concluding the review.

The Fifth Sin, The Memorabilia

For me, Sodomic Baptism’s Contra Christum, strikes me as more than just an album; it feels like a rough, experimental that’s rooted deeply in old-school brutal death metal. What really captures my attention is how the album is carefully crafted from start to finish. Each song flows into the next with a sense of purpose. It’s as if the band intentionally composed something that’s both brutally intense and strangely beautiful in its own way.

Sodomic Baptism — Contra Christum Review

The Sixth Sin, The Artwork

This artwork for Contra Christum is not mere album decoration—it’s a visual hex, a summoned icon torn from the underworld. The horned figure at its core is enthroned like a high priest of desecration, flanked by malformed beasts clawing through a chaos-soaked abyss. Its posture is commanding, yet grotesquely reverent—echoing the album’s liturgy of inversion.

The Seventh Sin, Disrelish

There is nothing to condemn in Contra Christum—no misstep, no dilution of Sodomic Baptism‘s feral intent. Each hymn is steeped in venomous liturgy, each sonic assault forged with purpose. Contra Christum is a temple desecrated, its walls echoing with sacrificial hymns and blast-beat exorcisms. Thus, our ritual review concludes, we urge the devout and the damned alike to delve deeper into the blasphemous catalogues of Brutal Records, Bizarre Leprous Production, and, above all, the ever-unholy Sodomic Baptism.

The Hymns

01. Antipsalm. Purification Inthrough Antichrist
02. Posthumous Rebirth
03. Bloody Redemption
04. LCF
05. The Witches Laughter
06. Adepts of Chaos
07. Belial. The Path to Knowledge of the Abyss
08. Resurrection Outhrough Renunciation of Grace
09. The Transcendence of Existence

Sodomic Baptism

Alexis Tetin — Guitars, Bass
Alex Tetin — Vocals