DISSECTION – REINKAOS

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The child in me is now dead. Reinkaos is officially the most disgraceful display of spiritless has-beenism Iíve ever had the misfortune of suffering through. I canít even find words to explain just how profoundly mediocre this album is. Smothered in corny Luciferian mysticism, it confidently holds its own against some of the all time death/black metal letdowns of the last fifteen years. I mean, this shit is right up there with timeless flops like Atrocityís Blut, Samaelís Eternal, Sepulturaís Chaos A.D., Satyriconís Volcano, Gorefestís Erase, Emperorís Prometheus, etc., etc…. fucking embarrassing. It actually reminds me of Swedish cheese-thrash like In Flames or Dark Tranquility which, as we all know, hasnít been cool for years, if ever.

Most of this album melds together to form a long, uninspiring tribute to pedestrianism. There are a few riffs reminiscent of days passed, but nothing that didnít have me yawning harder than a narcoleptic on muscle-relaxants. Jon can still put down some great vocals and it pains me that he can because I hear potential; I hear the possibility of something that I know is dead and buried. Of course I wasnít expecting Storm of the Lightís Bane 2.0, but I was looking for the next logical step, perhaps something even monumental. What I got with Reinkaos was a cosmic, black metal dick in the ass. Jon claims to have written incantations to the Ďdark Godsí in an Ďanti-cosmicí effort to release his Ďinner black flame,í the hallmark of any dutiful MLO adherent. See, what irritates me about all this necromantic lunacy is that itís no less revolting than the fucking Christians. If Jon thinks heís made up of anything other than blood, guts, and water, heís a fool.

I really shouldnít be that surprised, though, as Maha Kali was thoroughly disappointing in every respect. Like many, I convinced myself that the song was tolerable, perhaps even decent, while I futilely clung to the hope that Dissection would rise again and restore glory to the crumbling and humiliated kingdom of black metal. After hearing Reinkaos, I now know it was only an illusion, much like the illusion that Jon mustíve experienced during his eight-year stint in prison, convincing himself that the time was well spent when in reality it was stupid, meaningless, and a complete fucking waste of talent — not to mention the end of what was arguably the best black metal band going. Was it Jonís fanaticism and obsession with Azeratian babble that brought Dissection to an untimely halt? Or was it the combined lack of dedication and laziness of the other band members? Either way, it wouldíve been cool to see the new group play live if for nothing other than to hear them rock the classics.

,p>Unfortunately, this wonít be happening now that Jon has decided to shoot himself in the face. I knew the guy had fallen completely from his rocker, so news of his suicide came with about as much shock as catching an inadvertent glimpse of my brotherís ass crack when weíre brewing beer [Ed Note: Grim and Frostbitten Necro Beer]. The ironic part about Jonís end is how it ties into his own clichťd words, ďdeath before dishonor.Ē Since when is it honorable to toil away eight years in a cell on behalf of some Algerian homo? Jon died a victim of his own contradictions and I feel neither sorry for him, nor any two-bit teenaged black metal boob sniveling over his demise. There is, however, a tragedy to be found within all of this. According to Jon, once a person has reached his or her full potential in life and attained their zenith of personal accomplishment, there is no genuine reason to continue living. While this may or may not be true, if he considered the half-assed buffoonery of Reinkaos to be the pinnacle of his life achievement, well, thatís just bloody fucking Shakespearean right there. Both comic and tragic. I think Iíll go put on Storm of the Lightís Bane while I wait for the hailstorm of shitty tribute albums.

About Mike von Hobart

Mike has 4 skills in life- drinking, reviewing black metal, being unemployed, and general uselessness. He writes about 2 pieces a year, but they are invariably our most popular because our readership is comprised of 17 year-old Scandinavian virgins, by which we mean 28 year-old Scandinavian virgins.