Review by Felix on May 22, 2019.

Rumbling, somehow awkward sounding guitars characterize the production of Délétère's first full-length, dated 2015. This is a sound one has to get used to. The massive and more or less lumpy mix contradicts the actually fine leads and melodies. This is not as bad as it sounds, because this kind of inner conflict gives Les Heures de la Peste a certain individuality. By contrast, the hoarse and baleful voice does not provide a special contribution. Sometimes icy, passionate screams appear that build a bridge to the most extrovert Scandinavian black metal singers. But this is not as bad as it sounds, too. To close this chapter, the production is not outstanding, but okay.

What about the musical content? Délétère originates from Quebec and they fulfil every expectation in terms of style. At least the fast sections of the duo's compositions lie in close proximity to the songs of their neighbors. I am speaking of Forteresse, Csejthe and comparable bands from the constantly boiling Canadian metropolis. One could also mention Sanctuaire if one leaves their ambient pieces out of consideration. But wait, the here reviewed work also houses some ambient elements. However, do not think of endless keyboard lines that wander alone through the barren prairie. Songs like "Aux Thaumaturges Égarés, une Étoil Nécrosée" create a desperate, sinister atmosphere without neglecting the metallic fundament. Lonely guitars deliver the soundtrack to a sad scenario while darkness falls over the land, but they are mostly accompanied by the infernally echoing lead vocals and the reliable rhythm section. By the way, this piece with a duration of more than seven minutes shines with its compositional coherence - and this coherence is no exception, but the standard. The dudes mostly deliver intelligently constructed tunes, and this is not a matter of course when it comes to a debut work with eight songs that clock in after 48 minutes.

The album - which is equipped with a stylish booklet - generates a very uncomfortable feeling due to its strict leads and the painful yelling. The ecclesiastical choirs at the end of "Une Charogne Couronnée de Fumier" also create ambivalent emotions, to say the least. It is amazing to see that both sides of the band work very well. The raging outbursts and the atmospheric sections complement each other in a good manner. "Credo II" is the prime example. Its Forteresse-like high velocity parts shine with fascinating leads and pure vehemence, while the gloomy yet extremely heavy episode which sets in at 2:40 minutes delivers the perfect supplement. No doubt, it seems as if Quebec has become a guarantor for high class black metal with an unmistakable flavor. To cut a long story short, if one likes cascades of guitar lines, fervent vocals and a high degree of dedication, Les Heures de la Peste has a good chance of becoming his or her album of the month. Great songs like "Le Lait de l'Essaim" are not ten a penny. Indeed, the mostly fantastic compositions let me forget the slightly dubious production. Honesty speaking, I want to hear more of Délétère.

Rating: 7.7 out of 10

Review by Felix on December 22, 2020.

Did the world really need the comeback of Armagedda? From my point of view, they rather enriched the scene in terms of quantity than in terms of quality during their first active period. Now they have returned and their conglomerate of (old) Satyricon, Darkthrone and comparable bands still does not boast with individuality. Nonetheless, their fourth full-length presents a fine portion of solid black metal. The slow-to-mid-paced songs put the focus on atmosphere and they are pretty successful in doing so. I miss a higher degree of fury, grimness and bitterness, but I also respect the mid-harsh yet effective lines of 'Likvaka', in particular the pretty melodic harmonies that set in after 2:20 minutes. They have a slightly morbid and archaic touch and that's not only worth listening, but it also fits the artwork very well.

However, some run-of-the-mill black metal parts have also crept in. Already the first song after the useless intro is not free from these solid yet unspectacular passages – and this remains no isolated case. Armagedda commutes between ordinariness and exciting fragments. Maybe they should have shortened one or two songs. But instead of erasing the rather trite sequences, the experienced duo delivers six songs and an intro within 49 minutes. Honestly speaking, that’s somewhat challenging for both artists and followers. No doubt, the Swedes have many ideas that pin the listener’s ear to the speakers, but it seems to me they could have created even bigger waves. There is a black core in the depth of their compositions that should have been more revealed. It takes some time until the band really opens the gates to hell. However, details like the (once again) morbid touch of the stoic guitars at the beginning of the closer are fascinating. And by the way, the epic monument on the final position holds more thrilling sequences while varying both intensity and tempo cleverly. This track especially gives me the feeling that there is probably more talent than the album brings to day.

Armagedda have returned with an homogeneous album that features sinister guitar lines, deep, demonic vocals with some reverb on it and a proper dose of wicked blackness. In its best moments the album reveals a kind of magic, but, well, only in its best moments. The output is like a stray cat that has come to you – you would not have missed it, but now that it is here, you want to keep it. And maybe Svindeldjup Ättestup is just the first step into a golden second era of the band.

Rating: 7 out of 10