Review by Norbert on December 22, 2025.

Oskoma, something that scratches your teeth from the inside. Like when you suddenly crave something sweet, but instead of sugar, you get handfuls of sand, rust, and burnt incense. Or that brief tingle you get just before you reach for a 10% hazy triple IPA with a horned skull on the label. And that's a good thing, because Krystalicznie Brudny – the debut material from the band Oskoma – has a similar effect: nothing here is light, nothing is clear, everything is thick, cloudy, and hits you right in the head.

This horde comprises four dudes, all reminiscent of Loathfinder, Kult Mogił, Totenmesse, and Gruzja. In Oskoma, the quartet of gentlemen offers a "Crystally Dirty" vision of black metal—treated like a ritual performed in a dusty broom closet, somewhere between a '94 demo tape and a pack of matches bought at a gas station at 3 a.m. And honestly? That's exactly how it's supposed to sound.

Oskoma doesn't pretend to discover ̶N̶o̶r̶w̶ay America or that they came to revolutionize the genre. Krystalicznie Brudny is an album that sounds like a basement recording from a fellow maniac from three decades ago, unearthed: a sound distorted to the brink of sanity, riffs as fast as a fire in a drying room and tearing forward like a rusty saw, vocals screamed with the contempt typical of old demos, and lyrics—from 'Pochodnia Krzywd' to 'W Służbie Dostatku' - so blunt that you can almost feel their "toothy" aftertaste. Everything here is primitive in the best, ritualistic sense—the spirit of lo-fi black metal reborn, but without posing as ancient veterans. This isn't a tribute, it's a continuation.

There's no room here for splendor, progression, or existential contemplation. Oskoma pounds away like people once pounded away out of necessity: because the rehearsal room was cold, because the amplifier was buzzing, because you had to get there before the neighbors called the police. That's why these compositions live on—they're short, furious, cutting like a verdict. 'Pochodnia Krzywd' burns as if someone were actually holding it, dripping with grease and malicious intentions. 'W Służbie Dostatku' sounds like a hymn written by someone who never experienced abundance, but who understands the justice meted out by a rusting blade.

The lyrics? So blunt, it's tooth-chilling—and since this is "toothy" black metal, it couldn't be otherwise. Zero metaphors, zero philosophizing; pure, unfiltered negation, more reminiscent of something like Morsum Diaboli than any modern "atmospheric journeys in the fog." This is the voice of the dungeon, not the forest.

Looking at the cassette release of this material—a physical medium that demands to be popped into a deck from decades ago—and the accompanying pack of matches, I get the impression that Oskoma are winking at the listener, but they're being completely serious. Because this album is precisely that torch: simple, dirty, effective. You light it, listen, and suddenly everything around you becomes a little more hostile, and therefore strangely honest. This is the music of people who know that black metal doesn't need decoration, only embers.

Krystalicznie Brudny isn't a reconstruction of the past, it's a natural extension of it. It might not be exceptional material, but it works. It has a kind of grime and energy that makes it a truly enjoyable listen, without any sense of falseness or forced stylization. It's raw, underground black metal that doesn't pretend to be anything, doesn't try to be smarter or more sophisticated than it should be. It's a fire that burns the same old way—you just need to ignite it.

Rating: 8.5 out of 10