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Lord Of Nerves

by CREMATION GROUNDS

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Tyme
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Murmux
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johnnypurplehaze
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Betty Koster
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blended.brains
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Philippe Simon
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Eric
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1.
Lord Of Nerves I 08:10
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Blood and drugs Blood and drugs Blood and drugs Blood in one kiss Drugs on your lips Black vomit lust shredding the atom as we did so many eons ago Spill forth from the black cunt of the rotted Soph billions of unknowing receivers ignorant to the truth behind the meat the cursed matter I flayed her across millennia stripped her bare and became the Lord of Nerves I read the word of the One written in scarified tissue on the interior of her derma The rest, flung on the heaps of dung
2.
Lord Of Nerves II 11:10
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3.
Lord Of Nerves III 12:00
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4.
Lord Of War IV 04:48
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5.
Lord Of Nerves V 07:00
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6.
Lord Of Nerves VI 04:35
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about

This is one of several recordings from the obscure death industrial / black industrial ensemble Cremation Grounds that had been thought lost for nearly fifteen years. Recorded in 2009, this sprawling mass of tripped-out filth and drug-damaged black sludge was finally recovered recently from a corrupted, utterly cursed hard drive that I had long figured to be a goner. A little luck here, and little urophagic magick there, though, has brought a series of albums and tracks back from the depths of digital rot. These recordings are now presented through Crucial Blast for the first time, just in time to preface the first-ever live performance of this daemonic freakout that's happening a little later in the month from the date of this writing (September 2023). Part hyper-ferocious shitstorm, part bestial industrial nightmare, and part improvised scatalogical blasphemy, it's all hitting the air now, like the stench of a desiccated carcass that's been hidden in the previously air-tight recesses of an undiscovered storage area for years before being dragged out into the light of day. Which, I suppose, is exactly what we're looking at here.

Currently Lord Of Nerves is being presented as a digital release, but there are imminent plans for physical documentation of this seething vortex of cosmic horror right around the bend, men.

Originally recorded and performed as an anonymous entity, Cremation Ground births a special kind of ugliness. On the surfacem Lord Of Nerves is pure blackened roar and severely brain-damaged heaviness. A whirling cacophonic stew of noise, severely burned sludge, and mesmeric filthscapes. Six tracks, all eponymously titled, move through a sequence of grotesque, hypnotic mantras and looming walls of crumbling noise, sometimes stumbling into a kind of gargantuan industrial slow-motion machine-crush, the sound of devil-worshipping apes operating some kind of dangerous heavy machinery. According to the original notes that accompanied these master recordings, Nerves was fueled on a mixture of illicit Russian psychotropic chemicals and rare entheogenic plant matter, and whipped together in the span of a few weeks with a ritualistic, compulsive attention to space and repetition amid the churning distortion and buried mechanical loops. While most of this album delivers a clanging, deafening wall of gurgling distortion, disintegrating mega-structures, and grinding electronics, with everything pushed so deep into the red that it can decalcify the listener's pineal gland at the right level of volume and amplification, there are vast depths to this oceanic abyss. Out of the raging noise, you find yourself occasionally stranded ashore charred, salted fields of haunted ambience that open up to the horizon, or become faced with deformed, monstrous vocals roaring out of the muck, odd passages of ceremonial percussion, guttural bellowing and instances of bizarre chant (like the final minutes of "III"); these elements of Lord Of Nerves go on to reveal other, filthier influences to this maelstrom.

On one hand, the level of speaker-shred points towards the influence of the brutalizing 1990s-era harsh noise of artists like Macronympha, Pain Jerk, and M.S.B.R.. But in those guttural roars, weird echoing shrieks, clanking industrial sludge parts (such as the glacial doom-drenched deathsludge of "V"), smears of deathly ambience and waves of hiss, there are also qualities of the most primitive, atavistic violence that come from years of bathing in the droning spaces and tape-scuzz found in the slower moments and sonic grime swarming between songs on eight-generation dubs of early Finnish black/death demo cassettes, conjuring the no-fi barbarism of stuff like the really weird parts of Beherit's 1990 "Seventh Blasphemy" and Archgoat's "Jesus Spawn" demo from '91, pushing those influences through a mangle of rotted electronics and rusted-out junk-metal. This is some seriously grim shit. What makes this forty-seven-minute wall of noise and broken violence even stranger is the fact that the album was purportedly created by Cremation Grounds first and foremost as a personal meditation technology. The long-form track lengths allow for immense sea-swells of sonic blast that, after an extended period of time, actually do carry a kind of numbing effect. There's a pareidolic vibe as you suss out strange structures, voices, forms, and patterns in the blown-out hellstorm.

This particular recording definitely bears some resemblance to the more evil-sounding abstractions that Crucial Blast has explored with stuff like Gnaw Their Tongues, The Human Quena Orchestra, and Reclusa...you know what we're into, and this is more of it. A pulverizing first ejaculation of primordial black noise / sludge from a band that will soon prove to be capable of much weirder and more provocative experiences than even this.

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released September 17, 2023

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Crucial Blast Hagerstown, Maryland

Crucial Blast is an independent underground label and online shop specializing in cutting edge, experimental heavy music and related cultural artifacts, with a particular focus on blackened avant-metal, nihilistic noise/industrial, dark ambiance, infernal psychedelia, and hardcore improv/free-jazz. ... more

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