Album Review: First by Ill Omen – A Gritty Dive into Goth Rock’s Underbelly
Released in 1989, First by Ill Omen is one of those albums that sneaks up on you like a shadow in the night. Self-released under their own label (or lack thereof), this German goth rock gem feels raw, unfiltered, and oddly personal. It’s not polished to a shine like some of its contemporaries, but maybe that’s what makes it stick. The band leans hard into the gloomy vibes, crafting tracks that feel both haunting and strangely inviting.
Let’s talk about “Bleeding Fields” first—it’s the kind of opener that grabs you by the throat. The guitar work here is jagged, almost industrial, with a rhythm section that pounds away like a heartbeat in distress. There’s something hypnotic about how the vocals sit just above the chaos, delivering lyrics dripping with despair. You can practically smell the damp earth and taste the metallic tang of blood. Yeah, it’s heavy stuff, but it sets the tone perfectly for what follows.
Then there’s “Old Vampyre,” which might as well be the album’s centerpiece. If you’re into brooding atmospheres and tales of eternal damnation, this track has your name all over it. The bassline groans like an ancient crypt door creaking open, while the drums shuffle along with a ghostly persistence. What really gets me, though, are the whispered verses—they sound like secrets shared between lovers who’ve long since turned to dust. It’s theatrical, sure, but never crosses into cheesiness. Instead, it pulls you deeper into Ill Omen’s dark little world.
The other tracks, “Armageddon” and “Wonderful World,” round out the record nicely. They keep the energy high without straying too far from the core vibe. But honestly? Those two songs don’t leave quite the same impression as the ones mentioned earlier. Still solid, just… less memorable.
What strikes me most about First is how unapologetically DIY it feels. This isn’t some big-budget production trying to sell you on glamour or excess. No, Ill Omen seems content to lurk in the shadows, crafting music that’s equal parts ugly and beautiful. And honestly, I respect that. In a time when so much rock was chasing mainstream appeal, these guys doubled down on being outsiders.
So yeah, First isn’t perfect. Some transitions could use tweaking, and the mix is a bit muddy at points. But none of that really matters once you let yourself sink into its grimy embrace. Listening to it now, decades later, feels like finding an old photograph tucked inside a forgotten book—faded, maybe a little torn, but full of stories waiting to be told.
Here’s the kicker: if Ill Omen had stuck around longer, would they have blown up? Hard to say. Maybe they didn’t want to. Either way, First stands as proof that sometimes the best art comes from places no one expects.
