Review by Dominik on December 4, 2024.

Imagine this: a shadowy conspiracy where North Korean hackers infiltrate the hard drive of a lowly music reviewer, intercepting drafts of critiques for a debut album, only to feed them back to the band as some form of bizarre, black-metal espionage. Far-fetched? Hmmm…… The humble reviewer (that's me) has been sitting on a draft for Wormwitch's debut album Strike Mortal Soil for years—to finally post the finished review in September 2024. Meanwhile, Wormwitch goes ahead and releases not one, but two more albums. And then, as if by some arcane sorcery, these two efforts seem to address every single criticism I had jotted down in that ancient draft. Coincidence? Either I'm impossibly lucky, or I've been played like a tremolo-picked riff. Of course, what the band would hope to gain from such an absurd operation is beyond me. But while the tinfoil hats among us work that out, let's get to the matter at hand: reviewing the album Wormwitch.

The Sound: brutal, coherent, and unyielding. Gone is the genre stew that made their earlier work feel like a metal buffet where no one knew which dish to focus on, this messy potpourri that once grated my nerves. Wormwitch may still dabble with other sub-genre influences, but everything here is firmly rooted in black metal. And not just any black metal—the grimy, gritty kind that drags its knuckles through the dirt and grins at the blood under its nails. It is filthy, aggressive, and beautifully ugly. It's black metal that smells of burnt forests and raw spite, not something designed to woo a Spotify algorithm. It's clear the band no longer cares about sales figures or audience approval, this isn't an album for mass appeal— it just exists, unapologetically, in its raw and ferocious state.

The album structure: like a punch to the face, with a breather. If Wormwitch were an opera (bear with me here), it'd be lauded for its pacing, the elegant tension arc and positioning of its individual parts. It's a relentless barrage from start to finish, with a small reprieve in the middle to let you unclench your teeth. The production is perfect for this: harsh, merciless, and utterly devoid of polish. There's no sugar-coating, no compromises—just an unfiltered assault on your senses. Meanwhile, the frontman, who doubles on bass, sounds utterly wrecked. His delivery perfectly matches the intensity of the music, and you can tell he's poured everything he has into this performance, sounding like he shredded his throat on shards of glass for our entertainment.

Let's look at some specifics. The first song that makes you raise your eyebrows and possibly some horns in appraisal is 'Envenomed'. It kicks off with blistering aggression but throws in two surprising heavy-metal guitar solos that somehow feel right at home amidst the chaos. 'Inner War' toys with you, opening like an "…And Justice for All" B-side before abruptly flipping the switch at the one-minute mark. They thunder away like a horde of wild buffalos, chased by merciless hunters out to kill 'em all. It becomes a ferocious stampede, alternating tempos but never letting up on its unrelenting intensity.

'Godmaegen' (this word so far defies translation) opens with an eerie nod to Norwegian black metal before evolving into a slower, bass-driven piece that drones toward territory reminiscent of Fetish 69's "Antibody" or even Sonic Violence's "Jagd". Wormwitch proves here that they can stitch different ideas together into a coherent sonic assault, showing the band's newfound ability to integrate disparate ideas without sounding schizophrenic; a skill they lacked on their debut.

After the unnecessary interlude of 'Salamander' (seriously, what's the point? Did they owe someone a favor?), two more standouts follow suit: The first being 'Wormsblood Necromancy', a mid-tempo steamroller of a track that crescendos into a final explosive minute. Think claymore mines, but with riffs. My late personal highlight is 'Bright And Poisonous', which opens with a brief, biting proclamation in German and delivers a subtle black-thrash flair simmering beneath its black metal exterior.

Final Thoughts: Wormwitch may not win awards for finesse, but their unrepentant attitude more than makes up for it. They've stopped trying to please everyone, and in doing so, they've crafted their most focused and feral work yet. This album just exists in its raw, abrasive glory, daring you to keep up. If the conspiracy theorists are right and the review of their debut album somehow influenced their evolution, I'll wear the badge proudly—but I won't be switching to a manual typewriter anytime soon to avoid being hacked again.

Rating: 8.4 out of 10, because finesse is overrated, and sometimes, you just need an album to punch you in the soul with sheer, inexorable attitude.