To Meet The Storm: A Raw Glimpse Into Colombian Black Metal’s Underground Spirit
Released in 1998 by Black Moon Productions, To Meet The Storm: The Black Moon Compilation stands as a gritty testament to Colombia's lesser-known yet fiercely passionate black metal scene. Featuring a roster of various artists, this compilation doesn’t just explore the genre—it dives headfirst into its chaotic depths. With tracks like "Dulces Hijas De La Noche" and "Por Siempre Necrolust," it carves out an identity that feels both raw and unapologetically authentic.
The album cover, crafted by Jorge Ramírez, perfectly mirrors the music within—dark, cryptic, and hauntingly atmospheric. Credit also goes to Jhon Pulgarin for engineering duties, ensuring that every distorted riff and guttural growl hits with precision. While all ten tracks bring something unique to the table, two songs particularly stick in your mind long after the needle lifts off the record.
First up is "Dulces Hijas De La Noche." This track wastes no time grabbing you by the throat. Its opening riff slithers through the mix like a serpent on the hunt, while blast beats hammer relentlessly in the background. There's this weird tension between beauty and brutality here—the melodies almost feel mournful, but they're buried under layers of aggression. It's one of those tracks where you can practically smell the incense burning during recording. You won't forget it anytime soon because it captures what black metal should be: intense, otherworldly, and slightly unhinged.
Then there's "Por Siempre Necrolust," which takes things in a more primal direction. If "Dulces Hijas" was about atmosphere, this one is pure rage distilled into sound. The vocals are utterly feral, spitting venom over riffs so fast they blur together into a wall of noise. Yet amidst the chaos, there’s a strange groove lurking—a hypnotic pull that keeps you coming back for more. Tracks like these remind you why black metal fans often talk about “the void” or “the abyss.” Listening to this feels like staring into both at once.
What makes To Meet The Storm special isn’t just its technical execution; it’s how it channels the spirit of DIY underground culture. Colombia might not be the first place people think of when discussing black metal, but this album proves the genre knows no borders. Still, don't expect polished production values or radio-friendly hooks. This is music made for shadowy basements and candlelit rituals, not mainstream playlists.
In hindsight, the fact that such a compelling piece of art came from a relatively obscure label speaks volumes about the dedication behind it. And hey, who would've thought Colombia could churn out black metal this cold? Makes you wonder if Satan himself vacationed there in '98.
