Let There Be A Massacre
posted on 3/2008 By:
An overtly misanthropic black/death/funeral doom hybrid, Sol is the twisted vision of one Emil Brahe. Let There Be A Massacre is an extremely draining, totally nihilistic labor of hate, driven by a vehement disdain for humanity that is arguably unrvialed by any metal act to this day - self-indulgent black metal included. Lyrically and conceptually, the album is a mildly fascinating window into the dude's worldview (which, needless to say, isn't pleasant). Musically, however, it succumbs to many of the pratfalls that besiege one-man projects, as well as the inherent shortcomings of the album's hellaciously droning approach.
Fans of the death/doom thing will find a lot to immerse themselves into, but don't expect anything akin the warm embrace of Novembers Doom or Daylight Dies. This is far crustier stuff; gnarled, ghostly, and slightly brittle. But despite being slower than a broken unicycle and uglier than a leprosy-fetish porno flick, the music of Sol isn't quite as abrasive as its agenda, nor is it unlistenable; far from the case. The majority of the record is fairly stock/standard/predictable, and is hampered by the fact that Brahe, acting as his own creative filter, doesn't have a firm grasp on when to reign these songs in and extract maximum impact. Each song builds and builds in intensity as it climbs...but the tracks tend to plateau, not peak. As a whole, this album would certainly be more enjoyable if it was half as long.
Saving the album from being a bit of an overwrought bore (along with the geniuely creepy aura that surrounds this thing) is the horrifying epic "Boginki". Beginning with a full minute of militaristic snare drumming, it segues into a bowel-shuddering two-chord stomp, which is then punctuated by Brahe's howling of pure venom ("Hate! All! Life!") into what sounds like a megaphone. And then...the most fucked-up thing in the world happens, as an off-kilter, death-reeking accordion stumbles forth and just dies in your brain. If anything, this track is a microcosm for the potential of the band, and is the only section of the the album that fully provides the terrifying experience that Sol is trying to convey.
This is a weird lil' nugget of hell right here, assuredly, but the amount of hum-drum, ho-hum death/doom plod far outweighs the vile outbursts of quirkiness, making this a mere curiosity. There was no outside influence on Let There Be Massacre to provide creative input or dissent, and it shows; songs shouldn't test the listener's attention span, and often times, these ones do. However, for the next Sol release -which should be upon us very soon- Brahe has hired a full band, and is rumored to have incorporated faster tempos and a more aggressive tone. If the dude can take his sickeningly inhuman vocals and venomous misanthropy and apply them to a more riff-based metallic direction, he could make Sol a truly exciting enterprise. Until then, proceed cautiously.
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