Crowning Death’s Head with Invictus Productions
Invictus Productions has broken the seventh seal and unleashed cosmic horror on the world of men. Repent, for the end is nigh.
Antiversum – Total Vacuum (April 13, 2015)
A beast lurks in the outer fringes of the galaxy. Its appetite is voracious, its hate eternal. Its desire is to plunge this dimension into nothingness that we may all be enlightened through the sweet embrace of negation. Its name is Antiversum, and its tools are as potent as its malice. It wears a crown of icy riffs that swirl and collide like comets ringing a celestial body. Its cloak is a permanent darkness created by the cosmic horror of the vocals belching blackness into the black. Its hammer is a desolation of slow, methodical percussion that batters the crust of any planet it touches. Its portentous language of death doom is the glacial herald of the end, the destroyer of worlds. Heat death and the permanent cold of space loom.
Abominor – Opus Decay (May 31, 2015)
Do you hear that heaving, sucking sound? Shhh! Listen! That tremendous emptying of the wind and air, as if a lustful giant were lurking within the rock itself, greedily, rapaciously ingesting all that is good from our world? That is the sound of Abominor. Over the course of two long tracks, Abominor draw you deeper and deeper into the lungs of hell. At times you’ll find yourself merely drifting, a black smog cradling your vulnerable body with a demonic embrace; at other points you’ll find yourself hurtling uncontrollably as though the gravity of the grave is actively drawing you by the throat to the flaming core of the earth. Ever will you be moving down. Noxious vocals drift like fumes of deathly miasma through either track, the ghastly growls leaving a caustic residue on all they touch. The drums perpetually bash and batter, an unrelenting, malevolent wave of stone and rubble that crushes your bones and smashes your will. The riffs spiral ever closer to oblivion, their swarming, jagged edges slowly dicing your corporeal form into nothingness until all that’s left of you is a spiteful consciousness standing bare to the open malice of ruin. Opus Decay is the sound of humanity drifting through hell to face the cleansing plague that will bring about the end.
Antediluvian – Through the Cervix of Hawaah (November 11, 2011)
There’s a whisper in the wind. Whenever the names of Ævangelist, Portal, or Mitochondrion are spoken, one more word lingers on the tongues of the guilty, like a curse that must not be spoken. That name is Antediluvian. It is a name that invokes images of terror and suffering. It is a word that conjures chthonic vocals that growl and shriek and burble in alien tongues unfit for mortal ears. It is a curse that reproaches the will of man with immense, cyclopean riffs that tower like a profane Babel above our mightiest works. It is a throne before which all of mankind’s progress is brought to ruin by the incessant, tidal shift of its nuanced and seizing rhythms. It is an oppressive, archaic word that damns beggar and king alike to torment in a smothering atmosphere of misery and fear wherein every piece of the eldritch puzzle seamlessly binds together to form one unending, pulsating serpent of loathing and fear. Every note, every tribal beat of the drums, every new gasp from the blackened lungs seethes as one as the curse that is Antediluvian swallows the light. It is a name that must not be spoken.