Review by 수진 현
Dark Infernal Light by Tinieblas: A Blackened Blast from Puerto Rico’s Underground
Let’s cut to the chase—Tinieblas’ Dark Infernal Light is not your average black metal album. Released in 1997 via Thrash Corner Records, this Puerto Rican gem feels like someone took all the chaos of a tropical storm and cranked it up with blast beats, screeching synths, and riffs sharp enough to cut glass. It’s raw, unapologetic, and dripping with occult vibes that’ll make you wanna throw on a pentagram necklace (even if you don’t own one).
The lineup reads like some kind of demonic dream team: Kibbeth growls his guts out on vocals, while Nocturnal Soul and Zogros shred guitars like they're summoning demons at midnight Mass. And let’s give props to Azarak for keeping those drums pounding harder than a caffeinated heart attack. Oh yeah, and there’s Hephaestus throwing down eerie synth layers that sound like Satan got into an '80s horror soundtrack library.
Now, onto the tracks. First off, “Hymn To Io Pan” kicks things off with a vibe so sinister it could scare crows off a cornfield. The intro lures you in with haunting melodies before exploding into full-on blackened fury. You can practically smell the sulfur as Kibbeth spits venomous lyrics about pagan rituals or whatever unholy stuff he was into back then. This track sticks because it sets the tone perfectly—a mix of evil theatrics and straight-up headbanging brutality.
Then there’s “Cult Of The Black Snake,” which might just be my favorite cut here. Why? Because it grooves. Yeah, I said it—groove. Most black metal bands forget that sometimes you gotta move more than just your neck, but Tinieblas nails it. The basslines from Havoc slither around like actual snakes, and the guitar work has this hypnotic quality that makes you wanna bang your head AND do a weird interpretive dance at the same time. Plus, the chorus hits hard enough to leave bruises—literally and figuratively.
Production-wise, Happy Psycho did what he could with the tools available in ‘97. Sure, it’s lo-fi, but honestly? That works in its favor. It gives everything a gritty authenticity that polished modern albums often lack. Like listening to a cursed artifact instead of something fresh off Spotify’s algorithm.
What really stands out about Dark Infernal Light is how unapologetically itself it is. There’s no pandering to trends or trying too hard to impress critics. Tinieblas went full throttle into their own twisted vision, and damn if it doesn’t pay off. Listening to this record feels like stumbling upon a secret cult meeting in the woods—you’re either gonna run away screaming or stick around for the ritual sacrifice.
In conclusion, Dark Infernal Light isn’t perfect, but who cares? It’s wild, weird, and wickedly fun—a snapshot of black metal done Caribbean-style. If anything, it proves that heavy music doesn’t need to come from Norway or Sweden to kick ass. So grab a rum cocktail, crank this baby loud, and prepare to have your soul scorched by Puerto Rico’s finest infernal export. Just don’t blame me if your neighbors start complaining—they clearly don’t understand art.
P.S. Fun fact: Jesus Villafañe took the photos for this album. Bet he never thought his camera would capture such pure darkness… unless he knew something we didn’t.
