Review by Dominik on July 6, 2025.

In a scene where self-promotion often roars louder than the music itself, Morbus Dei chose the route of total invisibility. It's one of those bands that seem to materialize out of the darkness — no fanfare, no press release, no flashy corpse paint campaigns. Just music. Which is a bit of a shame, because "The World Left Behind", their second release, is a more-than-respectable piece of blackened art hurled squarely at the listener's face. Sure, there's stuff to critique — and I'll get to that — but the strengths of this album outweigh its shortcomings.

First, the flaws (because that's how we do it here). Much like their equally cheerful fellow Germans Endstille, Morbus Dei are stubbornly clinging to the sound they've carved out early in their career. That's not to say they're copying anyone — but rather that they've locked onto a sonic identity and are unwilling to budge. It's admirable in a way, like someone refusing to move out of their bunker even after the war is clearly over. The result is a rather unforgiving and joyless form of black metal: cold, relentless, and devoid of compromise. It's not constant blast beats, though — even when the band slows down into more groove-oriented passages, the intensity doesn't let up. The double bass in particular hits with the fury of a drummer trying to beat a confession out of his pedalboard.

The vocals, however, are where my head starts to hurt — and not just figuratively. The frontman's aggressive screaming crosses the line from raw to self-destructive. It's less "expression of pain" and more "vocal cords committing ritual suicide". The delivery makes your own throat ache in sympathy. While ferocity is essential in this genre, his performance is powerful, sure, but also borderline unlistenable at times. Then there's the so-called "full-length" runtime: 27 minutes, of which several are burned on an intro, an interlude, and a title track that takes longer to start than your average government response to a crisis. It's like ordering a three-course meal and getting two breadsticks, a spoonful of soup, and a waiter whispering, "That's it." What's left is more of a very angry EP.

So, let's move to the good stuff (and there is plenty). Though the interlude "The Trilogy Of Triumph" is as necessary as a dramatic pause in a soap opera, it manages to do something useful: it introduces the strongest three-song run on the album. "Propaganda Permafrost" dives into the bitter cold of WWII's Eastern Front — musically and thematically. It's the most straightforward blackened assault on the record, with rapid-fire blitzkrieg riffs alternating with heavy, trudging mid-tempo sections which sound like a sonic reenactment of tanks pushing through snow — violent, methodical, and absolutely bleak. "Alles Gute Kommt Von Oben" ("All Good Things Come From Above") continues the wartime theme, this time focusing on the merciless destruction of indiscriminate carpet bombing. The irony of the title is obvious, and the music reflects the horror: a cold mix of speed and grim reflection. It's both aggressive and deliberate. "Fealty To The Flag" changes gears slightly with a more groove-focused approach. The drummer's feet continue their reign of terror here, pushing the track forward with militaristic precision. It's catchy in a way that feels wrong, but satisfying nonetheless.

Another strong moment is "Decadence And Perversion", which follows the intro and offers a textbook example of Morbus Dei's tightly defined sound: merciless, minimal, and mechanical. It shows the bands' commitment to joylessness that borders on performance art. Finally, we arrive at the title track, "The World Left Behind" — arguably the album's most reflective moment. For a good 90 seconds, not much happens apart from some slow, doomy mood-building, paired with spoken word samples — reminiscent of Endstille's habit of ending on a bleak, dragging note, which would be fine if the album wasn't already shorter than a polite argument. Its place as the closer is thematically sound, but musically, it's the weakest link in an otherwise well-forged chain.

"The World Left Behind" is a well-produced and focused album from a band that clearly doesn't care about trends, exposure, or anything beyond staying true to their grim vision. While the vocals can be divisive and the length is more of a polite gesture than a feast, there's a real sense of purpose and identity here. If Morbus Dei are comfortable lurking in the shadows and delivering sonic misery on their own terms, I say let them. Just maybe tell the vocalist to gargle some honey water before the next recording session.

Rating: 7.8 out of 10, because even if it's not perfect, you have to respect a band that sounds like it's trying to make the world end — and means it.