WOMB
“TACITURN”
E.P. Review by Dark Juan

2/10

Womb are: Pains in the arse.

I can find no information about the members of this band, or for that matter, a decent fucking photograph. I’m sure they are trying to be mysterious but in reality they are just being annoying.

Anyway, Womb (I don’t have the right keyboard for the funny Norwegian O with a line through it that they have insisted on using for their name) are from Portugal, which I’m sure you’ll all agree is NOT black metal central. In fact the only other Portuguese black metal (once upon a time before they discovered goth and eyeliner) band I know is Moonspell. Womb sound nothing like Moonspell. Rather confusingly as well, when I googled Womb with the funny line through the O, I ended up hitting the website and Facebook page of a transgender support group. I am not sure if the two are related. I hope they are because that would be mightily entertaining for many reasons. Especially because transgenderism and black metal are societal types which have rarely, if ever, meshed. But, as Dark Juan is kind of an inclusive hellpriest and absolutely refuses to judge people by which set of genitals they have, want, have changed to or prefer, I want to see some absolutely kickass black metal played by transgendered individuals. That would be fabulous. Thanks.

Anyway, this EP is called Taciturn and fulfils all known black metal stereotypes. Inane and incomprehensible lyrics delivered in a ball strangled shriek by a pasty faced, scrawny individual wearing twice his own body weight in leather, corpse paint and six inch nails? Check.

Songs played at breakneck pace with guitar sounding like it is being played through a five watt practice amp? In a fishbowl? Check.

General record production values equating to happening across a circle jerk in a public lavatory in Sunderland on a rainy Tuesday? Check. Not cool. Very not cool.

Uninspired generic EP artwork involving runes or sigils and pretentious, arty band photograph with silly hand gestures? Check.

Daft song titles composed seemingly of random words arranged in what appears to be a completely arbitrary order? Check.

Compulsory Latin song title involving the word blood in there somewhere? Check.

Drums so far down in the mix you can hear nothing but crash cymbal and the very occasional blastbeat? Fucking check.

So, I am not impressed by these very silly men. They bring absolutely nothing new to a genre that already struggles to maintain itself or any relevance in the modern scene. Every song is written from the same black metal handbook and is generic, wishwash and frankly, boring. There are no good songs on the record. Don’t waste your time looking for them. At least Necros Christos (who got a poor score from the Mighty and Patented Dark Juan Blood Splat Rating System) were trying to stretch the boundaries of black metal, as opposed to this shower who insist on putting it back in its mouldering little box and repeatedly buggering the face painted corpse until it stumbles into some kind of benighted half life for about 17 minutes before sinking back into the oblivion it was so rudely raised from. Wait, I’m going to discover that this band is composed of twelve year old refugee girls and it is their only outlet for the suffering they have endured, aren’t I? In which case I’ll look like a right twat.

Ha! I don’t care. This is a terrible record and it is to be avoided. It smells of wee and poo and its mother sucks cocks in hell. Thank you for your attention. Please tell me they aren’t refugee girls. I’ll feel guilty.

The Patented Dark Juan Blood Splat Rating System wishes Womb would fuck off back to Portugal (only one good metal thing has come from Portugal, and that is Carlo Regadas, erstwhile Carcass and Blackstar guitarist, now playing with Monstrance. And he’s only half Portuguese) and stay there, and awards them a paltry 2/10. That equates to the cursory investigation Greater Manchester Police would give at the scene of a brawl between two twelve year olds where some blood was spilled. Derivative and uninspired.

TRACKLIST

He Is The Preacher Of The Gods (Well, he’s not going to be the preacher of fucking sandwiches, is he?)

In The Abyss Of This Darkness In Which The Spirit Has Died To Itself (Emperor style word salad at its finest! Even my spellcheck and grammar check objects to it!)

Nychthemeral (Is this even a word?)

Master-Slave (Oh, hey up. Gentlemen, start your engines.)

Ritual Union Through Sex Magick (Well, that escalated quickly from the quasi-religious song titles of the first two tracks.)

Hic Est Sanguis Meus (The blood of women, apparently. They are beginning to make me worry about their state of mind. They are being quite specific here! Although it has to be said they have made no mention of how they intend acquiring it. I understand mooncups are a thing and they might not be on about slaughtering the fairer sex. Either way, still a bit dodgy.)

Ekenosen (Apparently this is a Greek verb used in theology to describe Christ emptying himself. The creepy bastard. Where is he doing this? And how long has he been at it? And more to the point how the hell have some Portuguese black metallers got hold of this? I mean, Dark Juan is omniscient but even I had to Google this!)

Band: I can find no website or facebook link. I have tried.

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