And All Became Death by Anders Brørby: A Sonic Black Hole You Can’t Escape
Alright, let’s get one thing straight—this album hits. Hard. Like, it doesn’t just sit in the background while you sip coffee and pretend to be deep. No, this is the kind of record that grabs you by the throat and drags you into its cold, suffocating void. Released back in 2015 under Feral Delight (a label name that fits way too well), And All Became Death isn’t for the faint-hearted or anyone looking for easy listening. This is dark ambient at its rawest, with experimental twists sharp enough to cut glass.
First off, props to Anders Brørby—he wrote it, produced it, recorded it, performed it… hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he hand-delivered every copy himself. The dude poured his soul into this project, and it shows. It’s not perfect, but who wants perfection? Perfection is boring. What we’ve got here is messy, haunting, and unapologetically real.
Now, onto the tracks. “We Almost Made It” kicks things off like a gut punch. The track starts slow, almost teasing you, then slams into these industrial beats layered over eerie drones. It’s like standing on the edge of an abandoned factory at midnight—creepy as fuck but impossible to walk away from. There’s something about how Brørby builds tension without ever fully releasing it; it keeps you hooked, waiting for some cathartic explosion that never comes. That unresolved feeling sticks with you long after the song ends.
Then there’s “Penguin”—wait, no, sorry, “Pumpkin.” Shit, even my brain gets confused trying to process this madness. Anyway, “Pumpkin” feels like a nightmare wrapped in static. The sound design is nuts, man. Layers upon layers of distorted synths clash together like broken machinery fighting itself. But somehow, it works. It’s ugly-beautiful, chaotic yet controlled. If you close your eyes while listening, you might start hallucinating shadowy figures lurking in the corners of your room. Or maybe that’s just me being paranoid. Either way, it’s unforgettable.
The rest of the album follows suit—tracks like “Baxter Stockman” throw curveballs left and right, blending weird sci-fi vibes with oppressive atmospheres. And yeah, sure, “When I Was Your Age” has moments where it drags a bit, but honestly? That’s part of the charm. This isn’t music meant to entertain you—it’s meant to consume you whole.
Here’s the kicker though: despite all the doom and gloom, there’s a strange sense of hope buried beneath the noise. Maybe it’s because Brørby made this entire thing alone, proving that sometimes isolation breeds brilliance. Or maybe it’s because when you listen closely, you realize this album isn’t just about death—it’s about survival. About clawing your way through darkness, even if you don’t know what’s waiting on the other side.
So yeah, give And All Became Death a spin if you’re ready to confront your inner demons—or just want some seriously fucked-up tunes to blast during your next existential crisis. Just don’t blame me if you can’t sleep afterward.
