Nemesis by Silent Horror: A Psy-Trance Odyssey That’ll Mess With Your Head (In a Good Way)
Let’s get one thing straight—Silent Horror isn’t foolin’ around with Nemesis. Released back in 2007 on Devils Mind Records, this Swedish gem is the kind of album that grabs you by the brainstem and doesn’t let go. If you’re into electronic music, specifically Psy-Trance, buckle up because this ride gets wild.
First off, props to Jigar Shah for wearing so many hats he might as well open a haberdashery—he wrote it, produced it, and probably made coffee while mastering engineer Colin Bennun worked his magic. And can we talk about Marcos Gonzalez Pardo’s artwork? It’s trippy enough to match the vibe without being “oh look at me, I’m deep” pretentious. Solid effort all around.
Now, onto the tracks. There are twelve bangers here (or maybe thirteen if you count repeats—I mean, who hasn’t accidentally named two songs almost the same thing?), but I wanna zoom in on two standouts: “Aztec Spirit” and “Last Laugh.”
Aztec Spirit feels like what would happen if ancient Mayan priests decided to throw a rave instead of building pyramids. The beat builds slowly, teasing you like, “Oh yeah, we’re going there,” before exploding into this hypnotic groove that’s equal parts tribal chant and futuristic laser beam show. You don’t just listen to this track—you experience it. By the time the bassline drops, your feet have already left the ground. Maybe they’ve been sacrificed to the gods of dance. Who knows?
Then there’s Last Laugh, which…well, honestly? It sounds like someone took a haunted house soundtrack and gave it an EDM makeover. But hey, it works! The eerie synths creep up on you like a shadow in the dark, and just when you think you’ve got it figured out, BAM—a drop so sharp it could cut glass. This tune sticks with you long after the final note fades, like that one awkward laugh at a funeral you can’t unhear.
The rest of the album keeps the energy high, though some tracks blend together like shots at a bad bar. Not everything hits perfectly, but even the weaker moments still pulse with creativity. Tracks like Hypnotic Melody live up to their names, while others (Vengeance, I see you) feel more like mood pieces than full-on anthems.
So, where does that leave us? Nemesis isn’t perfect—it’s a little rough around the edges, but that’s part of its charm. Like those old-school arcade games from the ‘80s, it’s not sleek or polished, but damn if it isn’t fun as hell.
Final thought: Listening to this album makes me wonder if Silent Horror ever considered a career in mind control. Because seriously, how else do you explain music that worms its way into your skull and refuses to leave? Either way, I’m not mad about it.
Oh, and if you’re wondering why they called themselves Silent Horror, well, beats me. Maybe silence is scarier than loud noises sometimes. Or maybe they just ran out of better ideas. Whatever the case, crank this baby up and enjoy the chaos.
