I’d never been the biggest fan of Profanatica, although that had as much to do with my limited exposure to the act as any kind of outright distaste of the sonic pungency. While it’s not like I’m a loyalist now, the last couple of years gave me a new appreciation for Paul Ledney’s (Havohej, ex-Incantation, etc) merry band of anti-Christian plague spreaders. Much of that has to do with my growing appreciation for this kind of barbaric black metal minimalism. When done right the approach seeps into the pores and paralyzes the body in a way that would seem grotesquely invasive if it weren’t so, for lack of a better term, hypnotic.

That is exactly the impact made by Disgusting Blasphemies Against God, a title whose complete lack of subtly and metaphor is rivaled only by the music’s complete lack of subtly and tunefulness. After your journey through Ledney’s venomously sacrilegious projectile vomiting, as well as his relentlessly pounding primal beats, an ungodly bass rumble that does more leading than following, and the appropriately basic black metal licks, you’ll end up with nerve damage, blood that runs black, and seizures that occur every time you pass by a church of any denomination.

Musically, the above description fits pretty well from one end to the other, but there are slight variations on the central hypnotic theme, such as Lendey’s detours into a more percussive, or at least varied, kind of drumming on songs like “Fuck the Blood of the Lamb” and “No Trumpet Shall Sound,” the latter’s main guitar line uncannily invading the brain and lodging itself there. “Christs Precious Blood Poisoned” is even more noteworthy for the ritualistic, some might even say tribal, drumming and a one particular section of earth-moving bass and feedback that penetrates and possesses. Above all else, the approach is about beating the listener into submission and make damn certain that all white light thoughts have been thoroughly washed from the brain.

Profanatica lives up to its name and then some on Disgusting Blasphemies Against God. The beatings are bloody and the scarring permanent. This one is not for the fence sitters, the trend conscious, or the sensitive. You’re either all in or you’re way the fuck out.

[Visit the band's website]

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