Attraction Of Fear by Awful Death: A Dive Into Sweden’s Dark Electronic Depths
Let’s get one thing straight—Sweden in the '90s wasn’t just about IKEA meatballs and ABBA nostalgia. Nope. It was also churning out some seriously gritty electronic goodness, like Attraction Of Fear by Awful Death. Released in 1993 under Evil Eye Productions (a name that screams “we’re up to no good”), this album is a gnarly blend of EBM and Industrial vibes that hits harder than a malfunctioning jackhammer at 3 AM.
The tracklist reads like a dystopian fever dream: Final Disaster, Disillusioned Again!, Morbid Machinery, and more. But let me zoom in on two tracks that stuck with me long after my headphones came off.
First up, “Final Disaster.” This banger kicks things off like someone dropped an anvil on your subwoofer. The bassline growls like an angry cyborg dog, while the relentless beat feels tailor-made for stomping through abandoned warehouses or maybe plotting world domination—your choice. What makes it memorable? Well, it’s not just the crunchy synths; it’s how it sets the tone for the rest of the album. By the time you hit play, you’re already knee-deep in post-apocalyptic vibes, wondering if humanity has any hope left. Spoiler alert: probably not.
Then there’s “Seductor,” which flips the script entirely. If Final Disaster is all brute force, Seductor slinks in like a shadowy figure in a trench coat. Its hypnotic rhythm and eerie melodies make it sound like the soundtrack to a forbidden love affair between machines. Or maybe it's just what plays when robots try their hand at slow dancing. Either way, it’s hauntingly addictive, kinda like those late-night snacks you know you shouldn’t eat but can’t resist.
Now, don’t get me wrong—this isn’t background music for sipping lattes at your local café. This is music for brooding, scheming, and possibly building a DIY exoskeleton in your garage. Tracks like Common Disorder and Hybrid keep the energy high without ever feeling repetitive, while cuts like Outside Embryo throw curveballs that leave you scratching your head (in a good way).
Looking back, Attraction Of Fear feels ahead of its time—or maybe perfectly suited to its era, depending on how nostalgic you’re feeling about flannel shirts and grunge. It’s raw, unpolished, and doesn’t care if you “get it” or not. And honestly? That’s what makes it so damn cool.
So here’s the kicker: listening to this album in 2023 feels like finding an old VHS tape in your attic. You dust it off, press play, and suddenly realize why people used to rave about analog grit. Sure, modern EDM might have shiny production values, but albums like this remind us that sometimes, imperfection is where the magic lives. Now excuse me while I go listen to “Final Disaster” again and pretend I’m starring in my own cyberpunk thriller.
