ǽ-cyrf - Apostate
Ǽ-cyrf, a freelance musician from Finland, recently released a new album, Apostate.
ǽ-cyrf
Apparently, according to his blog, ǽ-cyrf, aka Narri, is “a man who is depressed, psychotic, obsessive-compulsive, borderline personality disorderly, social anxiety disorderly, and sick in every way imaginable. Sometimes I wish for it all to end.”
On his blog, entitled Sickly, he says of the songs, “Lyrics they don’t have yet, but everything in due time.”
Despite acknowledging his dysfunctionality, ǽ-cyrf has beaucoup talent. The Apostate album embraces four-tracks, beginning with “Creep,” which opens on a dark dirty guitar, followed by the entrance of a cavernous bassline, vibrating the walls of Hell, and tight flat snare. Rumbling with reverberating resonance, the tune rolls out sepulchral washes of shuddering doom.
A glutinous bass-filled breakdown shifts the treacly harmonics to low-slung grinding heft and then ramps back up with mega-grimy guitars.
With Apostate, ǽ-cyrf bores into the fissures of shadow-filled dread, insanity, and the imminent bedlam of the bleakest corners of the human soul.
The title track travels on a trickling guitar intro transitioning into gluey deep quivering tones. As the melody takes form, crunching, chugging puffs of black energy imbue the music with the potency of a run-amok machine from Metropolis.
“Stoned,” fat and tumescent with viscid textures, is probably my favorite track on Apostate, simply because of its echoing resounding gravity, like the ancient Titans shifting position in their prison, the murky Tartarus. Massive foreboding tones crouch, growl, and thunder with great raw clots of sound.
“Black Magick Witchcraft” features searing opaque guitars oozing obese polluted throbs, and then assume tremor-filled marching cadence, followed by juddering walls of rattling intensity. Rife with wicked, protesting complaints, the harmonics take on the electrifying, pummeling force of ferocious reprimands from an angry god. As the tune achieves sonic orgasm, layers of impenetrable syrupy blackness thrum and interlock, creating a soundscape at once brittle and devious, heedless and onerous.
With Apostate, ǽ-cyrf bores into the fissures of shadow-filled dread, insanity, and the imminent bedlam of the bleakest corners of the human soul.
Follow ǽ-cyrf Bandcamp
