The statues are tilted
In priest-like poses
They’re moving their arms
In rhythmical dreams
Possession is the medicine
For the tainted blurred within
Lined up on pedestals
In pestilent postures
Possession is the medicine
For the tainted words whim
Imprisoned in spine
Tending lights in the tunnels
Speaking in tongues
Shining in spasms
The invisible presence
And his toxic torrents
The clocks have all slowed
To the sound of howling throats
Acrid fumes on the horned horizon
Altars stained with blood
Cutting off thrones to spite the face
All phantoms underground
Walk with me now
Possession is the medicine!
Memorial wolds of fanaticism
Medicate the worship within
Nefarious roads of old omens
The overpowering will
Disturbance in the root of the self
A loose thread reveals
In too deep to turn back now
Just a spoonful of hate
Helps the medicine go down!
supported by 24 fans who also own “Possession is the medicine”
Swirling guitars, furious drums, vocals that at the same time howl from infinite distance and are right up in your head; everything put into dissonant form with the help of unconventional songwriting. This album is my personal key to the icelanding black metal madness that I've ignored for way too long! Lukas Kaufmann
supported by 22 fans who also own “Possession is the medicine”
Melodic, almost pagan black metal out of Iceland with some of the most aggressive vocals I've heard in the genre. It's balls to the walls from the first note with few respites, but its melodic enough to not overstay its welcome. Jeff Wilson