Crux - Rev Smrti - Scream of Death review artwork

Rating: 9.5

Country: Czech Republic

Release Date: 2007

Track list:
1. Bells Of Return
2. Scream Of Death
3. Demons Of Darkness
4. Pinnacles
5. The First Key
6. The Void
7. Awathea
8. Demons Of Darkness (Entrails Demo 1998)
9. The Last Key (Cales Demo 1992)
10. Awathea (Obycejna Voda` Demo 1993)
11. Farm House (Demo 1990)

Crux - Rev Smrti - Scream of Death

Roman- Bass/Vocals/Guitars
Blackosh “Blackie”- Guitars/Vocals
Evil- Drums
Jary- Guitars

While the ripples of post-Norway, post-Les Legiones Noires black metal continue to reverberate through the black metal underground, the arcane mysteries of the Eastern European scene remain jealously guarded by devout acolytes. The widespread neglect shown to the elder Slavic bands can certainly be attributed to woeful distribution, but one also gets the sense that certain secrets are willfully withheld from the public at large, lest their legacies are besmirched by the insidious scenesterism of other movements. It is true that a certain gratification is derived from speaking about Imperator or Dai in hushed tones, but the fact that Anno Domini and Ritual (both well-distributed in their day and highly regarded in critical circles) remain ignored by the general populace suggests that this strain of black metal is perhaps condemned to secret-handshake status. Of course, while I remain wholly convinced that Root deserves to be bigger than Justin Timberlake, I am gladdened by continued support of a scene that is largely represented by import-only or out-of-print releases and hopelessly obscure demos. With Nuclear War Now spearheading the petition for public awareness, resuscitating Tudor and Root demo material for public consumption, heavy metal institution I Hate Records have joined the fray with this superlative reissue of Crux's super-cult occult metal masterwork, a cornerstone of Czech extremity.

Czech enthusiasts are likely cognizant of Crux's intimate ties with Root, being that Blackie and Evil have played instrumental roles in both outfits. Parallels have been suggested between Root's virgin opus Zjevení and this exemplary LP, but in reality I believe such comparisons are tenuous and misleading, as Crux for the most part really do not share much common ground with any of Root's various sonic incarnations. It's less off-balance and more progressive than Zjevení and exhibits an even more pronounced thrash edge, aligning the record with the likes of ancient Tudor (Spalovna and Bloody Mary), demo/first album Amon Goeth and Törr. Crux very much hold their own against such august company, and in many respects even eclipse them in terms of melodic sophistication and consummate songcraft. Having released but two impossibly rare demos beforehand, Crux flaunt a musical élan that is frankly mindboggling- effortlessly deft, fill-intensive drumming, dexterous fingerstyle basslines and string-mangling, keen riffing provide a concrete foundation for Crux's watertight, swashbuckling brand of black-thrash. Busy and frenetic without ever veering into messiness, Crux's gung-ho dynamism is untainted by clumsy impetuousness, effortlessly shifting through a dizzying array of rhythmic variations without the slightest hint of awkwardness.

Reinforcing the brazen boldness of the album is a proclivity for instrumental flamboyance- the opening track has Roman and Blacky trading harmonics on a hulking, ponderous bridge riff before segueing into an exquisitely tuneful speed metal break. Fans of Sabbat Nippon take note- Crux ply a similarly bewitching synthesis of exotic, folk-tinged thrash and traditionally-minded melodic metal, all of which is cohered with exemplary, eccentric musicianship. At the same time, there is an ineffable, abstruse aura to this material that bears the same musty stench as Samael and Mortuary Drape, a comparison that becomes even more salient when the band explores doomier territory, ie the cavernous, contemplative passages on “Demons Of Darkness”.

Oddly enough, tracks 4-8 embark upon decidedly different territory- “Pinnacles” bears the strongest similarity to Root, with a vocal performance uncannily reminiscent of Big Boss' raspier offerings and plenty of jagged, off-center riffage, while “The First Key” and “The Void” even anticipate The Book and The Black Seal in their baroque grandiosity and elaborate pomp, though again such similarities are ultimately tentative. The bonus fare is a tad puzzling- we are treated to what is ostensibly Blackie covering his own band twice (Entrails and Cales were both helmed by Sir Blackosh), an acoustic interpretation of “Awathea” and a befuddling outtake labeled “Farm House”, little more than a thirty second instrumental brain-fart captured on tape.

It's true that the initiates of Czechian metal are meager in number, but their unflinching fervor and dedication to this hallowed scene surely attests to its immortality. If this humble review has piqued your curiosity, Rev Smrti is certainly an ideal entry point into a singularly unique microcosm.

May 29th, 2007