
With twelve tracks – Deadbeat, Mantrap, In Harms Way, Gods Shadow on Earth, Angelus, And Never Again The Twain, Souls Lost, Deadbeat II, A Bolt Out Of The Blues, Beyond Retrieval, Execration and Unclean –, there is a natural, but tempestuous innocence present in the music, that definitely seems anxious to transpose the translucent and pervasive panorama of its own style. With a serene, though afflictive tenacity, that explores the emptiness of its own protuberant static horizon of diluted splendor, the music displayed on Deadbeat is a fractal collision of very distinct and incisive sounds, that calmly filters the contingency of a realm of urgent demise and horrendous everlasting darkness, whose giant conglomeration of despair your soul will inadvertently generate.
While the general atmosphere tends to be more serene than ordinary albums of the genre, there is a lot more agony and divisive, though dispersive and discreet, affliction present on the surface of the harmonies; the gracious level of originality – delivered by a style that knows how to precisely combine a sinister and nervous calmness with ambiguously dilated sonorous sequences – certainly makes this work a volatile listening experience, that not only deserves to be summarily appreciated, but pleasantly heard, by regard of its inherent, elegant, cataclysmic and consistent musical virtuosity.
The perfect soundtrack for a sardonic, brutal and nefarious doom, Deadbeat is a pervasive, abrasive and lugubrious work of art, whose extraordinary and exceptionally creative standards are way above the general principles of the genre. With an insidious atmosphere, that intensely prefigures the pungent sonority of its intermittently nervous, macabre and atrocious musical layout, this album is the everlasting lament of a dying reality, whose existential insignificance will fade away, in the ashes of its own degeneration. A melancholic ode to an existential nothingness, Deadbeat, by Desiderii Marginis, is a wonderful collection of evanescent and obscure sinister symphonies, that not only aggrandizes the genre as a whole with its marvelous – more placid and evasive – imperative style, but definitely aggregates a new perspective for its creative and fatalist elements.
Wagner