The auditory hallucination is without failure a signet of a failing region of the brain be it chemical, psychic or physical trauma. Disintegrating gyrus, or slashed left temporal lobe, over-extend the mind into spontaneous creation of unreal noise. The ‘earworm’ or rather the involuntary sonic recreation of memoria within a persons ‘inner dialogue’ is no less a symptom of psychosis; This despite the cultural normalcy enjoyed by those afflicted with bursts of void-filling, musical loss of control. These are in fact neologisms that most often serve to influence the mania of creation due to persistent obsessive thoughts. That the artist appear driven is not always such a voluntary or calculated persona, in fact the ecstasy we call influence is most often a necessary post-traumatic recreation, an easing of the torment experienced by those captured, hexed by the dark rituals of others. ‘In Blinding Presence’ is the result of several generations of occult musical curses, a creature of distilled moldy synapse firing under duress into sickness, mania and horror. Leipzig, Germany is unassuming ‘ground zero’ to the spread of such plague, this propagandized black essence is the untamed apocalyptic malevolence of musicians past spit through frantic vibrations and scowling hoarseness onto the skulls of future generations. (The True) Veiled appear dripping from the walls as they debut a fine coalescence of clangorous blur, a hallucination manifested as symptom of ubiquitous impending death.
Serpentine within their nihilistic pulsation Veiled endure a massive density of Scandinavian traditions deconstructed with untoward ambivalence towards traditional forms. That is to say that the shocking insight of Ved Buens Ende‘s futuristic Dali-esque hum on ‘Written in Waters’ is sped to the precise dissonant fervor of Thantifaxath and/or Deathspell Omega before a grand Hoest-like reshaping of that chaos forms as hook, and noose. The very seizure of ‘In Blinding Presence’ is ugliness and wretch beyond the relative beauteous niceties of Fleurety, Whirling or Dødheimsgard and nigh punkish in its trailing abandon. Where minds are left scoured and slaked by passing daimonian pressures onto unknowing victim that intensity approaches the stifled beauty of ‘Grand Declaration of War’, the crisp roaring hiss of early Slægt and the shamanic twitching of Wulkanaz. The guitar work is modern extreme metallic curse that’d bounce off every eardrum into psychedelic eternity, a Voivod-esque melancholia that would push the psyche into the depths and drown all hope, kill all cells, suffocate all reason.
A psychic sickness creeped its opaque tendrils across my self as I first approached Veiled, the driving noise-rocked bulge of “Triunity” expressed its rhythmic insanity as if Hasjarl had guided their hands himself and as the three minute mark approached I’d removed from husk to despair projection for the sake of self-preservation. When the silence and hidden ancient psychedelia punctuated “Bringer of Lambency” I set it aside, pushing away the trauma endured. I lay there into the early morning, window lit by the reflection of light pollution upon deep snow, and again it came in pieces and waves. For weeks, and then months ‘In Blinding Presence’ spoke to me as cursed addiction and incessant ear-twinging racket impossible to shake. Possessed and with weakened will by way of cabin fever, I gave in and resolved to wear it out; To bask in Veiled in the hopes of drying out the grip of darkness. No salvation came. Highly recommended. For preview “Steps” offers a mountain range to portend the terrifying plummet of “Bringer of Lambency” but it was “Triunity” that first scoffed and murmured with excitement as I unwittingly ventured into nothingness.
Withering in captivity. 4.25/5.0
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