Spanish duo Teitanblood have never cared much for niceties, preferring to lambast their hapless listeners with walls of horrific noise. Death, their second full-length is a bitter pill to swallow. Their sound is ugly and intense; it’s not all black metal, and though some of the more warped moments sound like someone’s left a copy of Incantation's Onward to Golgotha outside in acid rain, it’s not entirely death metal, either. Instead, it's a weaponized hybrid of the two genres, as the majority of the band's guitar work remains an impenetrable mass, a near-constant stream of wild, squealing leads and solos come howling out from beneath the murk. Their technique illustrates just how much Teitanblood owes to thrash metal’s frantic ferocity. As has been his custom since the band’s inception in 2003 (save for their first demo, which featured current Proclamation guitarist Usurper of Eternal Condemnation and Inverted Crucifixion), NSK handles bass, guitar, and vocals. He’s had over a decade to perfect that balance, and it shows. There's a cold-blooded method to his madness.
The powerful rhythm section is the weighty altar upon which Teitanblood consecrate their rituals. The drums never let up for a moment; J's movements are so focused and intense that he often seems on the verge of spontaneous combustion. NSK carries the majority of the weight, but it must be noted that J’s heavy lifting fuels the album’s beating black heart.
Death itself comes in many forms, and Teitanblood seem to enjoy illustrating a smattering of examples on Death. “Cadaver Synod” erupts with an atomic blast, “Silence of the Great Martyrs” bursts into crackling flames, and dread sounds of the Rapture usher in the lengthy “Sleeping Throats of the Antichrist”, which builds into a towering inferno of lawless darkness bookended by moments of eerie atmosphere. The album stretches well past seventy minutes, smoldering and suffocating in equal measure. It’s a lot to stomach, and a sure dealbreaker for the passing curious. Teitanblood is not for everyone.
The flames sink into embers as Death rides out slowly. “Silence of the Great Martyrs” reverts back to heretical grace, its dark ambiance backed by chimes, foreboding synth, and a chorus of liturgical chanting. The album fades out, but the impact it makes lingers. As much as Death possesses noisy, “anti-musical” characteristics, there's a studied musicality concealed within the fracas. NSK may scorn studio shine or melodic pandering, but he knows how to write a song. What’s more, he knows how to do so in a manner that leaves listeners dazed and wondering what they’ve just witnessed. Therein lies the genius of Death: it’s a complete homage to extremity and regression, yet it pushes boundaries that lesser bands never thought to look for. Teitanblood grimly bring order to chaos, and with Death, have surpassed themselves once more.
