Black metal review: Searing Fires and Lucid Visions by Adustum

Website: http://users.telenet.be/teo/xxiii/
Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/adustumofficial

I have to say a few words about this music, as I’ve been listening to it pretty much non-stop for a month now, blasting out my car speakers as I go through the monotony of day to day routine, navigating through the indifferent masses, as they go to work, pick up the kids, go back to work, do the supermarket shopping, drop off the kids, go back to work, drop off the kids and so on and on, forever and ever in mind numbing, pointless, selfish, apathetic eternity.

You need something with passion when all you are surrounded by is faceless apathy and suburban cowardice and conformity. It’s enough to make you scream, make you want to dive back into the past, a past of passion and tribal identity where you knew who you were, what you were doing, and where you were going to. Not endless consumerism, routine, work to pay the interest repayments, all to private banks, who don’t exist because that’s a ‘conspiracy theory.’

Oh, how sick the world is today and how dumbed down the television numbed masses. The newer generations dumber than the last, spiralling down until there is no knowledge, no wisdom, just selfish career obsession and haircuts.

Where is the passion? Where is the life? There is none where I live, and so I dive into music. But the music is dead. Where is the passion in corporate music that pushes materialism and emptiness to those same masses I pass by in my car, blank faces thinking about work and relationship problems? So boring, so empty, and so I look for music out of the ordinary. Music that transcends the mainstream mind programming emptiness. But how to find it? I don’t know, you just look, and look, and look, and look, and occasionally you find something like this.

Adustum- Searing Fires and Lucid Visions http://adustum.bandcamp.com/album/searing-fires-and-lucid-visions

The entire album is just over 30 minutes long, but that’s all you need. It begins with a cry to the otherwordly, and it already transcends the banal. The drum pumps a beat of blood, and the guitars wail in anger. A guttural, powerful, urgent voice cries out to the daemon it will conjure through the gates of Hell, whether that daemon likes it or not. This is no request; it’s a demand. It’s a cry of life, of red-blooded male passion and testosterone in a world of oestrogen apathy and guilt tripping liberal feminist politically correct tolerance where nobody has an opinion, nobody has a personality, and nobody has any sense of life about them. Oh, we shall offend. This will offend. Turn it up, spray the suburbs red with blood sound noise of life. Click the links, buy it now. Rating: 10/10