Feed me / Ashes to angeldust
Candles contrite to ashes
Strawberry - et le sang coula à flots
Never resting pains
Juliet's sewing
Summertime - floors full of doveblood & shit
Supplicant and kneeling
A la mémoire d'un ange
Fullmoon blackened heart
Silent white salt
Agneau de dieu
No remorse
Remember - below curtains of green earth
Thirst - black water, red nenuphar
My beloved daughters
Scission / Inflammable cunt / Fist of cock
Stardust bleeding arteries
Les fleurs sanglante vos saisons

White noise. Unbearable white noise. Modulating and brain numbing noise. It never ends. Layer upon layer of wanton music terrorism to strike fear into the hearts of most normal people. Insane music that only weirdoes and Prozac induced zombies could hold close to their hearts. Mummy please make it stop.

Pleading will get you no where. Another track begins and another wave of nausea ensues. Relentless in its pursuit and desire to dominate and crush. Resistance is futile. Spirits are broken until only an empty husk remains. In an already overcrowded market populated by like minded artists do we really need another unfathomable soul destroying dirge that causes such misery? Course we do. Pain is beautiful. Through pain we learn to love and appreciate the more refined acts of life and pleasure. Ying and Yang. Both need each other in equal measure. Blod…great name…batter the senses with no regard to your feelings. Take it or leave it. There is no middle ground with this. The sickos amongst you may hope to find the disturbing undercurrent of incest to be found in here. Look elsewhere for your kicks. Apart from the child singing at the end, eat your heart out Miss Dion, you’ll be sadly disappointed you sick fucks.

The music of Blod won’t change your life. But when times are bad and you feel the need to inflict pain onto yourself at least you’ll be safe in the knowledge that Blod will pander to your every whim. What more could you desire from a recording of this nature?

ANM