Gnaw Their Tongues – Genocidal Majesty

Consouling Sounds

OK, a brief history lesson. In the fourteenth century, a man named Tamerlane, who dreamed of restoring the glory of Genghis Khan‘s Mongol empire, laid waste to big fuck-off tracts of Europe, Asia and Africa. Calling himself “the Sword of Islam” and “the Scourge of God”, Tamerlane built towers from the skulls of his enemies. Of which, as you can imagine, there were quite a few. Fresh skulls, at that, not your bleached medical specimens, though no doubt growing less fresh rather quickly. Skulls with rotting flesh still attached.

Right. Now imagine you’re on a dose of, say, mushrooms. And when I say “a dose”, I’m thinking the kind of quantity of mushrooms that would have Terence McKenna saying “Steady on, old chap, I’ve got work in the morning”. And while you’re tripping balls, you happen upon one of these towers. And the guy who built it can’t have gone too far. In fact he’s sitting on top of it, howling in anguish and triumph. Howling at YOU.

If you can imagine that feeling, then you can imagine the opening seconds of “Death Leaves The World”, the first track on the new Gnaw Their Tongues album Genocidal Majesty. It kicks straight in with a feeling, not so much of impending doom, but of a doom that has already impended, as it were. Not as in “something terrible is coming” and more “oh boy, you’re fucked now, been nice knowing you”.

And it’s a mood that’s maintained over all Genocidal Majesty‘s nine tracks, which go by such cheerful names as “Ten Bodies Hanging”, “The Doctrine Of Paranoid Seraphis” and “The Revival Of Inherited Guilt”. Although consistent as the mood is, the music itself shifts and transforms, constantly wrongfooting you. Is this Wolf Eyes-style noise? Is this industrial black metal? Is this actually just really loud dark ambient stuff? It’s kind of all of them at various points, and occasionally breaks it up with some ominous fanfares and stuff, kind of like Foetus or Emperor have a wont to do. But with far more distortion.

The grinding of blades and the twisting of flesh, the entry of the Dark Lord into the world. It’s what the more edgy imps and demons listen to while they’re on latrine duty in Hell. It’s dark, dirty and strangely exhilarating. It’s Arnold Schwarzenegger‘s Conan crushing his enemies, seeing them driven before him, and hearing the lamentations of “di vimmin”, only the movie’s directed by Pier Paolo Pasolini and everyone’s naked and covered in poo.

To be honest, the album reviews itself with its own title (much like Michael Jackson‘s Bad in that respect) — genocidal majesty kinda sums it up, really.

-Justin Farrington-