Umr At Tawil by Valdesgard: A Blackened Gem from 1998 That Kicks Serious Butt
Alright, buckle up, because we’re diving into Umr At Tawil, the raw-as-hell black metal masterpiece dropped by Valdesgard back in '98. Hailing from France and released on the gloriously DIY "Not On Label," this album is like a bottle of cheap wine that somehow tastes amazing—rough around the edges but full of character.
Let’s get one thing straight: if you’re looking for polished production or radio-friendly hooks, you’re barking up the wrong sacrilegious tree. This is black metal, baby, where grit rules and Satan probably had a hand in the mixing board (or maybe just some dude smoking clove cigarettes in a basement). But don’t let that scare you off—it’s exactly what makes this record so damn memorable.
Track Highlights: Raw Emotions with Extra Blasphemy
First up, "Reveal In Darkness" slams you over the head like a frozen turkey hurled by an angry Norse god. The riffs are razor-sharp, the drums sound like they were recorded inside a tin can (in the best way possible), and the vocals? Oh man, it's like someone gargled glass shards dipped in despair. It’s the kind of track that makes you wanna paint your face with corpse paint and scream at clouds—even if you live in an apartment complex where doing either would get you evicted.
Then there’s "The Infernal Blowing Winds Of Blasphemy And Lust," which might have the longest title ever written since War and Peace. Despite its verbosity, this song delivers. Imagine standing on a windy cliff while demons whisper naughty things in your ear—that’s the vibe here. The tremolo picking races along like a bat outta hell, and the atmosphere is thick enough to cut with a ritual dagger. You won’t forget this one anytime soon, trust me.
Why Does This Album Stick?
What sticks about Umr At Tawil isn’t just the music; it’s the attitude. Valdesgard doesn’t care about trends or fitting into neat little boxes—they’re too busy summoning dark vibes and crafting tunes that feel like they crawled straight outta Gehenna. Tracks like these remind you why black metal exists in the first place: to be unapologetically intense, chaotic, and kinda gross in all the right ways.
Final Thoughts: Not Your Grandma’s Playlist
If I had to sum this album up in one sentence, it’d be something like, “Imagine if Beethoven got really into Satanism and decided to shred instead of compose symphonies.” Would I recommend it? Absolutely—but only if you’re ready to embrace the chaos. Just don’t blame me when your neighbors start complaining about the noise or your cat starts acting weird after listening to “Dominus Sathanas.”
Oh, and fun fact: rumor has it that playing this album backwards will summon ancient forces. Or maybe it’ll just give you a headache. Either way, worth a shot, right?