Review by Dominik on July 5, 2025.

If there was ever a race to see which band could plunge the deepest into the abyss and emerge with the fastest, meanest, and most evil black metal album, Dark Funeral’s “Vobiscum Satanas” is one of the two pretenders to conquer the throne. This classic is like a jet-fueled descent into Hell. Released in 1998, this album marks the moment when Dark Funeral threw down the gauntlet, daring any other band—yes, Marduk, we’re looking at you to outdo them in sheer sonic malevolence. Marduk's “Nightwing”, released in the same year, was not only challenged but in my opinion, mercilessly annihilated. This “competition” where the fans lost their souls, and everyone else lost their hearing, found its peak in 1999 when Marduk did strike back. With shoving “Panzer Division Marduk” into the unprepared world, the Swedish commando was re-taking the throne or at least was comfortably sitting on Dark Funeral's lap (or vice versa, we will never know). But this is the story of another review (see “Emerging from the shadows – part 6). What makes “Vobiscum Satanas” so special?

From the very first blast of "Ravenna Strigoi Mortii," Dark Funeral doesn’t just greet you—they smother you with a wall of sound so dense, you’ll be questioning your sanity within seconds. The guitars, played by the enigmatic Lord Ahriman, are less about riffs and more about conjuring a storm of tremolo-picked malevolence. Imagine a swarm of genetically altered hornets, but each flying beast is holding a tiny chainsaw, and you’ve got a pretty good idea of what’s coming at you. The drumming by Alzazmon is so fast that it’s less like a human playing an instrument and more like someone furiously typing out an endless list of sins on a typewriter from Hell. Blast beats? More like “blasphemy” beats. And keep in mind that this was some time before Nils “the Dominator” Fjellström was adding some more intensity to the tracks recorded on “Vobiscum Satanas”. With hindsight, it is probably safe to assume that had he been the drummer in 1998, this album would not have seen the light of day. The studio would have been ripped apart by his blast beats and insane double bass footwork. But again, this is another story….

Where “Vobiscum Satanas” truly excels, though, is in its atmosphere (yes, you read correctly). This album doesn’t just sound evil; it “feels” evil. The production is crisp enough to catch every snarling detail but raw enough to keep it from sounding too polished. Emperor Magus Caligula’s vocals are pure venom, delivered with a hiss that could curdle blood and lyrics that are so drenched in blasphemy, you half-expect the speakers to start bleeding black. Tracks like “Ineffable King of Darkness” and the title track "Vobiscum Satanas" aren't just songs; they're rituals, designed to summon the darkest forces from the void. You are right in shouting “Dominik, but this is true for every song on this record”, but whoever said that you could use the stylistic element of generalization when reviewing a classic?

And then there’s the humor (yes, again, you read correctly)—though it’s the kind of dark, grim humor that you might only recognize if you’re well-acquainted with the abyss. Take, for instance, the fact that "Vobiscum Satanas" literally translates to “Satan is with you”. It’s like the black metal version of a Hallmark greeting—if Hallmark sold cards dipped in goat’s blood and written in Latin. There’s a certain campiness to the whole affair, an understanding that in the pursuit of being the fastest and most evil, there’s also a nod and a wink to the audience, as if to say, “Yes, we know this is over the top—and that’s exactly the point”.

In the grand scheme of black metal, “Vobiscum Satanas” stands as another landmark, a testament to how fast, mean, and unholy the genre could get in the late '90s. It’s the soundtrack to the apocalypse you didn’t know you were waiting for—raw, relentless, and with just the right amount of malevolent charm. Whether Dark Funeral is faster, meaner, or more evil than Marduk might be a debate for the ages (and we have not talked about Setherial, yet), but one thing’s for sure: when it comes to delivering an album that sounds like it could strip the flesh from your bones, “Vobiscum Satanas” is a worthy contender.

Rating: 100/100—because nothing less would do for an album that’s hell-bent on being the fastest, meanest, and most evil thing in your collection.

NB: please excuse the fact that, though my version contains some extra live songs, I solely focused on the original essence of “Vobiscum Satanas”.

Rating: 10 out of 10