Nurmur by Nurmur: A Sonic Sledgehammer to the Soul
Let’s cut straight to it—Nurmur isn’t just an album; it’s a gut punch. Released in 2018 by the Italian duo behind this chaos, Nurmur dives headfirst into Hardcore and Black Metal with zero fucks given. It’s raw, nasty, and unapologetically extreme. If you’re looking for something polished or radio-friendly, turn back now. This is music that screams at you from the underground—and damn, does it sound good doing it.
The whole thing was recorded, mixed, and mastered by Davide "BrutalDave" Billia, which kinda explains the cohesive brutality dripping off every track. The production has that gritty edge where you can practically hear the sweat and fury seeping through your headphones. Label? Italian Extreme Underground. Yeah, they don’t name labels like that for no reason.
Now, onto the tracks. First up, obviously, there’s “Nurmur.” I mean, how could you not start with the title track? Right out of the gate, it hits like a freight train made of broken glass and bad decisions. The riffs are relentless—chugging along like some demented factory machine stuck on overdrive. But what sticks with me most is the vocals. They’re not just screamed—they’re howled, like someone wrestling their inner demons while trying to set fire to everything around them. By the time the track ends, you're left gasping, wondering if you survived whatever just happened.
Then there's another standout (I won’t spoil all the fun) that really burrowed itself into my brain—a savage little number that alternates between blastbeat insanity and these eerie, almost haunting clean sections. It’s disorienting as hell but in the best possible way. Like walking through a dark forest only to find yourself face-to-face with something ancient and terrifying. You know those moments when music doesn’t just entertain but actually makes your chest tighten? That’s this song.
What gets me about Nurmur is how personal it feels despite being so abrasive. It’s like the band grabbed hold of their darkest thoughts and hurled them right at us without flinching. And honestly, who needs perfection when you’ve got passion like this? Sure, it might not be everyone’s cup of tea—hell, it’s probably closer to battery acid than tea—but for fans of Hardcore and Black Metal, this is gold.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to Nurmur feels less like entertainment and more like therapy. Not the comfy couch kind either—the kind where someone forces you to confront stuff you’d rather ignore. Weirdly enough, that’s exactly why I keep coming back to it. Fucked up? Maybe. Addictive? Absolutely.
So yeah, Nurmur by Nurmur—it’s ugly, loud, and unforgettable. Just like life itself sometimes. Now go listen to it...if you dare.