Living Tomb is a germane as titles come for the last testament of a deceased death metal band. Ironically, their final album was also their first. The group sprung to life in 2016, gnashed and gnawed their way into the hearts of thousands of die-hard heavy metal slaves before ascending into the void above, leaving only their iniquitous incantations as proof they had ever walked this earth in company with the shambles masses. Their legacy is a laceration that carves deep into the cleft of this mortal coil. Living Tomb is a sprawling monolith that stretches towards the sun like a great tree, seeking to pierce the sun with its spiraling branches, a rogue sentinal with bark-like shark skin, and boiling pitch for sap. Their etiolated aura is a pale doorway into infinity, locked behind a cracked mirror through which you can see the futility of your empty life telescoping in a dismal pattern behind you, rippling with a sickening splash like the waters of a tainted well. Blessed with a sour sense of callous mercy, Living Tomb has been biding its time, waiting to bestow its creator's parting gift to you so that you may find your place in the pale waxen shoals of oblivion.
You could find cheaper fare than 20 Buck Spin, but I wouldn't recommend it?
* Every day I am writing a fresh album review inspired by a different color and will continue to do so for the entire month of March (don't try to stop me!) Today's color nordic is an unnaturally dark and cool shade of blue, a hue that seemed to fit the feel of a haunted tomb as snuggly as an undead fist in a rusted gauntlet.
