We Are the Cult of the Plains
Moribund Cult 2010
Blood Cult represents American black metal at its most eccentric. They are a sort of bizarre, diverse, and morbid black metal cousin to Autopsy in some regards. However, the album begins firmly framed in black metal tradition as My Forest Home sprays out icy riffing which finally gives way to a rockin' solo and ropey guitars. And then the insanity begins. The second track, Devil's Sabbath is a backwoods rockin' anthem that is soaked with moonshine, but curiously enough from this morass rises a melancholic and gothic melody. Not to be outdone by their own material, a moody and gothy melody forms the core of Ludi Ceriales. This mixture brings to mind a combination of Misfits and Burzum and the alternating clean and shrieky vocals on the chorus, plus the jamming solo add even more atmosphere to this already tempestuous amalgam. The blasting Nordic black metal riff that opens seeds is as cold as northern frost. At the 3:14 mark though, a sloppy bass line surfaces summoning odors of Autopsy beneath the frigid guitars. The distorted country and western surf polka on Illinoisan Altar creates a very disorienting texture to the trap as the song constantly swirls and sways before cresting into a laid-back rock jam. Fat rotten riffs fester and explode like a swelling pustule on We Came Back. And finally, a rowdy stomp of a hillbilly black metal is unleashed on Never Said Goodbye. The initial riff reminds me of a southern slant on the theme music from Phantasm. Blood Cult have created an album that is an unique as any you will find in the underground. Sometimes perhaps a little too diverse for its own good, We Are the Cult of the Plains is still a fun and evil ride filled with backwoods horror and demented creativity.