Album Review: Satan’s Hunger by Dead Christ – A Blackened Bolt from Greece (1993)
Alright, buckle up, because we’re diving into one of those raw, unfiltered black metal gems that feels like it crawled straight out of a crypt. Satan’s Hunger, the debut album by Greek outfit Dead Christ, isn’t just an album—it’s a sonic exorcism wrapped in lo-fi glory. Released in 1993 under Molon Lave Records and some self-released chaos, this record screams authenticity. Or maybe it just growls… with a side of blasphemy.
First off, let’s talk about “Satan’s Hunger,” the title track. This thing hits you like a possessed goat charging through your living room. The riffs are razor-sharp, courtesy of The Eternal Worshipper Of The Seven Churches Of Necromancy (seriously, what a name). It’s fast, nasty, and dripping with evil vibes. Vocals? Necrobutcher sounds like he gargled glass shards and rage before stepping up to the mic. But hey, that’s exactly what makes it unforgettable. You don’t listen to this song—you survive it. And honestly, I haven’t been able to shake off its relentless energy since my first spin.
Then there’s “Burning Jesus Christ,” which is basically two minutes of pure sacrilegious fury. If you’re looking for subtlety here, good luck; they traded nuance for sheer chaos at the door. The drumming by Undead Devourer pounds like a war march from hell, while Churchcrusher’s basslines rumble underneath like distant thunder. Lyrically, well, let’s just say if you love Sunday school, maybe skip this one. But damn, does it stick with you. There’s something oddly satisfying about how unapologetically unhinged it all feels.
The production quality? Let’s call it “authentically grimy.” Engineer Frost clearly didn’t waste time polishing anything—this album sounds like it was recorded inside a coffin. But honestly, that works. Overproduced black metal often loses its soul, but not here. Every screech, every blastbeat feels alive, even if it’s kinda hard to hear sometimes.
So yeah, Satan’s Hunger might not win any Grammys (though can you imagine?), but it’s a wild ride for fans of raw black metal. Sure, the band members have ridiculous names, and the whole thing reeks of teenage rebellion fueled by candles and inverted crosses—but isn’t that part of the charm?
Final thought: Listening to this album made me realize something profound. Somewhere out there, someone probably thinks this review is too tame. And honestly? I respect that. Now excuse me while I go scrub holy water off my keyboard.
