Corrupted’s epic double-disc 1999 set “Llenandose De Gusanos” was recently cited in an issue of top muso-rag The Wire as positively pushing the boundaries of what constituted a song. By having two hour-long songs, one of extreme hellish doom-core (albeit with a 17-minute classical piano intro) and one of near-ambience, Corrupted marked themselves out as not only operating on the boundaries of rock music, but also of music in general. This new album, consisting of three pieces in about half an hour (a relative single for them) is another amazing effort from a band who have defined their own sound, yet are still able to explore the possibilities and develop it to incredible heights. The last two numbers are typical Corrupted – painfully loud and slow, with roaring grizzly-bear vocals (lyrics in Spanish for no reason whatsoever, as per usual). Great.
However, the real musical coup is reserved for the first song. The only way I can describe it is to get you to picture the scene… imagine 15th Century Northumbria. A line of hooded druids walks slowly along a fog-drenched hillside in the dull light of early morning. They carry the body of the child-King recently slain in battle… OK, got that? This is the music that would accompany that scene. As painfully quiet as the rest of the album is loud, with gently strummed acoustic guitars wrenching out the most poignant of minor chords, whilst words (in Japanese this time) are sung in the lowest, most exposed, soporific manner possible. For seventeen fucking minutes. Absolutely heart-stoppingly depressing and beautiful.
This comes packaged in a stunning book-style CD case that reflects the original gatefold sleeve of the vinyl version, which sold out of its initial pressing of 1000 in a single week.