Christian Masquerade by Kohort: A Blackened Journey Through Chaos and Faith
Let’s get one thing straight—Kohort’s Christian Masquerade isn’t your typical black metal album. Released in 2019 from Poland, this record is like a punch to the gut that leaves you gasping but oddly craving more. With labels like Act Of Hate Records and Total War backing it, you know they weren’t messing around when they crafted this beast. It’s raw, unfiltered, and dripping with emotion, kinda like someone screaming their soul out at 3 AM after too much coffee.
The band throws everything into the mix here—Mark on drums hammering away like his life depends on it, Herr shredding guitars like he's trying to summon demons (or angels?), Kris delivering vocals so intense you can feel 'em clawing at your chest. And let’s not forget Anioł’s cover art—it’s eerie yet captivating, just like the music inside. But what really makes this album stand out are the tracks themselves. I’ll focus on two because honestly, my brain can only handle so much chaos at once.
First up, “Sowers Of The Dark Sphere.” Man, this song hits hard. From the opening riff, it feels like you’re being dragged into some dark abyss where nothing makes sense anymore—but in a good way? The blend of relentless drumming and haunting melodies creates this suffocating atmosphere, like you’re drowning but somehow still breathing. By the time Kris starts growling about whatever apocalyptic vision Kohort had in mind, you’re fully submerged. You don’t just listen to this track; you survive it. And trust me, you’ll remember surviving.
Then there’s “Only The Stars Were Witness,” which flips the script a little. It’s slower, almost brooding, giving you space to catch your breath before dragging you back under again. The guitar work here is mesmerizing—Herr knows how to weave these intricate patterns that feel both chaotic and beautiful. There’s something almost poetic about the lyrics too, like staring at the night sky while questioning your entire existence. It sticks with you long after the last note fades.
What’s wild about Christian Masquerade is how unapologetically Polish it feels. Not in an obvious “we’re waving flags” kind of way, but through its sheer intensity and refusal to conform. Producer Demons Might Creator clearly gave this project room to breathe without polishing off its rough edges. That’s what makes it authentic. Sure, there are moments where things could’ve been tighter or cleaner, but why would you want that? Perfection is boring.
Reflecting on this album now, I realize it’s less about religion or politics and more about inner turmoil. Each track feels like peeling back another layer of Kohort’s collective psyche. Listening to it feels invasive, like reading someone’s diary without permission. But hey, maybe that’s the point.
Oh, and fun fact: Did you notice “Divine Massacre” shows up twice? Once as “Divine Masscre” (yeah, misspelled) and again properly titled. Was that intentional? A mistake? Who cares—it adds to the charm. Like finding an extra fry at the bottom of the bag.
So yeah, if you’re looking for something polished and predictable, skip this. But if you want an experience—one that’ll leave you questioning everything—you need Christian Masquerade. Just don’t blame me if it keeps you awake at night.
