Review by Norbert on August 2, 2026.

I’ve mentioned more than once that Gene Palubicki is a death metal beast. A fucking monster. Whatever he touches turns into deadly gold. On “Crucificial Imprecations” — the second album by Hexorcist, which premiered yesterday — he is supposedly responsible only for the vocals, but… There are voices that are suited for radio, some for audiobooks, and then there are those that make milk go sour all by themselves. Palubicki’s voice definitely belongs to the third category.

“Crucificial Imprecations” is a great piece of well-played old-school death metal. Without pretending that 1989 never ended, but also without forcing modern tricks into the mix. The ghosts of Morbid Angel, Angelcorpse, Possessed and Necrovore hover over this material like sulfur over a cauldron in Hell, but Hexorcist don’t sound like a band replaying somebody else’s riffs. It is a tribute to the old school written by musicians for whom old school is simply natural. “Crucificial Imprecations” is like an old tank. It isn’t the most agile or shiny, and it doesn’t have any modern gadgets, but once it starts moving — you’d better get out of the way.

There is no ear-tickling here. A short introduction and then, all the way to the end, an uninterrupted barrage of riffs, insane solos and tempos that effectively test the durability of your neck. There are no slowdowns simply to demonstrate that the band can play slower. “Crucificial Imprecations” is like a bar fight — it starts suddenly, lasts briefly, and when it’s over, there are broken chairs lying everywhere. There is no obligatory ballad or acoustic interlude. Hexorcist have set a course for total annihilation and don’t deviate from it for a single moment. Here, rest is scheduled only after the final track.

The album’s greatest strength is the riffs. There are tons of them, but each has its place. They come one after another like punches delivered with brass knuckles — not every one knocks you out immediately, but every one leaves a mark. There is no mindless grinding or technical showing off for the sake of showing off. On top of that, there are wild, at times downright hysterical solos that perfectly complement this controlled chaos. They come crashing in like a madman with a machete entering an elevator — they cause fucking mayhem and disappear before you have time to catch your breath.

The sound is raw, rough, and organic. Nothing has been polished here — the guitars bite, the drums smack you in the face, and the whole thing carries that pleasant stench of old death metal records, from a time when having a perfect mix was less important than making sure pure evil poured from the speakers. This sound is like a rusty knife — far from sterile perfection, but precisely because of that, it hurts more.

Eight tracks, just over half an hour, and not a second of filler. The material ends exactly when it should. Instead of fifty minutes of grinding through the same ideas, we get a concentrated punch straight to the fucking face. Each track is like another nail in the coffin — impressive on its own, but together they leave no room for doubt.

Five years ago, the debut album “Evil Reaping Death” whetted our appetite. “Crucificial Imprecations” proves that it wasn’t a fluke. Hexorcist still play death metal rooted in the late eighties, but they do it with such energy and conviction that it is impossible to simply walk past this album without taking notice. No revolution. No weird gimmicks. Just half an hour of fantastic death metal that, instead of chasing modernity, relies on riffs, aggression and atmosphere. And it comes out victorious.

Rating: 8.5 out of 10