Opiate Supremacy by Leather Chalice: A Raw Punch to the Guts
Alright, let’s get one thing straight—Leather Chalice isn’t here to hold your hand or make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Opiate Supremacy is a raging beast of an album that spits in the face of subtlety. Released under Opaqus Records, this record dives headfirst into Black Metal with Punk and Crust influences so raw they might leave splinters in your ears. It’s messy, it’s chaotic, and damn if it doesn’t hit like a freight train.
The opening track, “As Worms Ingress…” sets the tone immediately—it grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go. The guitars are scuzzy as hell, like someone ran them through a meat grinder. But what sticks with me most is how the drums just don’t quit; they’re relentless, pounding away like war drums calling you to battle. This isn’t background music—it demands your attention. I swear, every time I hear those opening riffs, I’m ready to punch a hole through drywall (but, uh, don’t do that). There’s something primal about it, almost hypnotic, even though my neck feels like it’ll snap from all the headbanging.
Then there’s “…Exodus of Rot,” which hits different but still packs a wallop. If the first track was a full-on assault, this one sneaks up on you like a bad trip. The vocals are unhinged, snarling and rasping over layers of dissonant chords that feel like crawling through barbed wire. What gets me every time is the shift halfway through—it slows down just enough to drag you into some kind of suffocating abyss before exploding back into chaos. You can practically smell the decay they’re talking about. Yeah, it’s heavy as fuck, both musically and emotionally.
Now, sure, tracks like “Hollow Perdition” and “Venomous Suppression” keep the energy cranked up, but honestly? Those two songs I mentioned earlier stick out because they’ve got personality. They’re not just noise for noise’s sake—they tell stories, ugly and brutal ones, that stay with you long after the album ends.
What surprises me most about Opiate Supremacy isn’t its ferocity—it’s its honesty. Leather Chalice doesn’t try to sugarcoat anything or dress things up. Instead, they rip open their chest cavity and show you everything—the pain, the anger, the filth. And maybe that’s why it resonates so deeply. Sure, it ain’t perfect—it’s too abrasive for some, probably—but perfection’s boring anyway. Sometimes art needs to be jagged and uncomfortable to mean something real.
So yeah, listen to this album if you want your soul shaken loose from its moorings. Just… maybe don’t operate heavy machinery while doing it. Oh, and fun fact? Listening to this makes me oddly nostalgic for places I’ve never been. Weird, right?
