Review by Alex on June 3, 2020.

Further extending his reach into the space of everything an nothing, Lord Sxuperion's (Matthew) next installment arrives roughly one year later following the summit of Endless Spiritual Embodiment. Since Cosmic Void's opening in 2016, it has been full throttle into the realm of confusion, a journey through the extremes of the mind and the galactic ethereal forces that have existed since the idea of conception. His turbulent, electronic, maze-like form of cavernous death metal with a pinch a of melody and rhythm continues to stretch deeper into a void splayed apart by existential horrors mingling with cosmic dread. Omniscient Pulse puts into motion the barque to traverse a place of ongoing conflict, birthing both the wondrous and dangerous.

The generator is immediately activated with 'Owl', ignited in the furthest distance via the crashing brilliance of Matthew's light-swallowing growls and intoxicating opening riffs. Untamed and set to roam the outer reaches of space, his drumming then combusts and in the most flamboyant of ways, the organic module of Sxuperion is reactivated. All this remains in perpetual motion and transition to an entry as colossal as 'Death (Bussard Ramjet Malfunction)'. Matthew's vocals stretch from those of an omnipotent force to those of indecipherable and almost psychologically disturbed verbal clatter. Judging from the title of the song, it would make sense something this sudden transpire as a mechanism used to project the feeling of compromised engineering (that of life).

To aid this next step towards the seemingly unreachable, the simplistic yet artistically genius depiction as the cover manages to perfectly capture the idea of insignificance through its emphasis on scale. We often speak of how well a band or project can represent or give account of the immeasurable cosmos or the abyssal, but only few truly understand how to achieve this effect, not just through the music created but also the imagery surrounding it. You'd envision the image while hearing a song like 'Planet Crusher - Defeating the Holy Emperor' and begin to understand how well executed the less is more approach is on Omniscient Pulse. Sacrificing visual glamour for something humble, all the while loudly vocal about the cosmic immensity which dwarfs and makes meaningless one's existence, comes as a praiseworthy facet of Sxuperion's compositions.

The music on Omniscient Pulse compared to that of past albums is of a slightly more technical, more sophisticated architecture. The drumming specifically undergoes multiple tempo and rhythmic changes throughout the record to align itself with the tonality of the guitars, vocals and ambiance. 'Death (Bussard Ramjet Malfunction)' executes this with awe; a sublime emergence of frequencies would intertwine with the turbulent all the while acrobatic drumming. However, not at the expense of the dictatorial climate expressed through Matthew's vocals as they remain the dominant asset with songs like 'Planet Crusher - Defeating the Holy Emperor', 'Betrothed Catacombs' and 'Myopian Frequency Release' emphasizing its omnipresence. The potential held within the music to expand is capitalized on and exploited in-so taking the record through a series of steadily climaxing moments until its pinnacle is met. This is the bread and butter of a Sxuperion album (the way I see it), being able to mobilize the instrumental mote of a song constantly growing in mass, to then explode in grandeur before the listener/s ears is a thing to anticipate with highest of expectations. A Sxuperion does not fail here.

I do miss the Gregorian chanting heard on Cosmic Void provided they added yet another ominous texture in conjunction with Matthew's hulking vocals; however, the samples taken from select films did appear to compensate for this missing feature due to how much more effective they were implemented, causing them to sound very much integral and as extensions of the songs. The production still maintains an organic approach that again acts in unity with Lord Sxuperion's (Matthew) trigger-less drumming. And as referenced earlier, there is much more to his vocal delivery with the addition of almost clinical, impulsive, vocal outbursts, a frenzied display of yells as though trying to free oneself from torment or frustratingly attempting to rectify something irreparable. Altogether, Omniscient Pulse is another strong addition to Sxuperion's interstellar catalog of primordial mysteries and horrors. It will be interesting to hear where the project goes from here.

Evocative Desolation Transmission
• 'Owl'
• 'Death (Bussard Ramjet Malfunction)'
• 'Planet Crusher - Defeating the Holy Emperor'

Transcendence through Corpuscle Sabotage
• 'Bethrothed Catacombs'
• 'Myopian Frequency Release'

Rating: 9.3 out of 10

Review by Dominik on February 20, 2025.

The Germans of Servant are back with Death Devil Magick, an album that continues their methodical approach to black metal. Much like their French counterparts Seth—just without the symphonic elements—Servant treats the genre as a technical discipline rather than an outburst of raw energy. If black metal were a mad scientist's experiment, they would be the ones in lab coats, carefully measuring the exact dose of venom to inject. Unfortunately, sometimes a bit of chaotic spillage is what makes the poison truly effective. Everything on Death Devil Magick feels carefully assembled, placed with intention, and executed with precision. All parts carry the weight of having been constructed with great effort and care and nothing is left to chance. This level of craftsmanship is admirable, but as always, the question remains: does technical perfection translate to emotional impact?

We need to remember that black metal was born from an ethos of imperfection, lo-fi production (ok, the least important part), raw emotion and anti-commercial stance. It was never meant to be clean, safe, or predictable. Death Devil Magick leans towards sterility rather than spontaneity. The highly professional but polished production mirrors the songwriting—structured, deliberate, and never reckless. This is not the kind of black metal that stumbles out of a dark forest with bloodshot eyes and a rusty dagger—it's the kind that arrives in a well-pressed robe, carrying a leather-bound grimoire. And yet, three albums in, Servant is still capable of delivering moments that remind you why black metal benefits from discipline and (!) chaos.

After the generic, obligatory intro (a trend I will never understand), "Temple" impresses with its coherence despite frequent tempo shifts. The transitions are fluid and the song shines with a well-structured intensity. Yet, the feeling of restraint lingers. It's as if the band could easily unleash total chaos but prefers to hold back—like a werewolf who refuses to transform because it doesn't want to ruin the expensive suit. This calculated approach works in places but can also make the album feel overly contained.

One aspect that immediately stands out is the guitar work, which injects the right amount of melody and feels the least "constructed" of all the instruments. The rhythm section, while perfectly synchronized, at times sounds so precise that the line between the human behind the kit and machine becomes blurred. That sense of control carries into "Fury", which for a minute starts off delivering exactly what its title promises—until it doesn't. For a brief moment, the aggression is fully present, only to deflate and settle into a safer pace. The track isn't bad at all, but it flirts with ferocity rather than fully embracing it. It's not that the mid-tempo sections lack merit, but when the band reintroduces the aggression later in the track, it only serves to highlight the potential that was left untapped.

When Servant does allow themselves to break free and take the unrestrained approach, as they do on "Litany", the result is far more compelling and suits the band well. Here, the intensity doesn't feel measured or restrained—it simply is. This song is exactly what "Fury" tries to be and fortunately does not suffer from being toned down in the wrong moments. Exactly here emotions shine over sterility.

Of course, no modern black metal album would be complete without an unnecessary instrumental interlude, and "Hope" fulfills that obligation with four minutes of... well, hoping it will end soon. A missed opportunity where more aggression, more chaos, or even just a well-placed scream could have made all the difference.

Overall, Death Devil Magick is a more-than-solid album, one that suggests Servant is still on the right path. It improves on its predecessor, features more strengths than weaknesses, and—on a purely practical note—keeps its song titles refreshingly short. Because let's be honest, no one wants to read a title longer than the running time of the song itself. The potential is there, but next time, let the beast out of its cage a little more often.

Rating: 7.8 out of 10, because sometimes black metal needs less control and more blood on the walls.