Be­he­moth

I Loved You At Your Dark­est

Classic Rock - - The Hard Stuff - dave Ev­er­ley

Un­holy hosan­nas from satanic metal’s new kings. Be­he­moth didn’t get to the top of the ex­treme metal food chain just by sheer dumb luck. The Pol­ish band’s suc­cess is a prod­uct of shrewd im­age build­ing, head­line-grab­bing provo­ca­tion and the kind of naked am­bi­tion that’s more Gene Sim­mons than Cronos from Venom.

In fair­ness, Be­he­moth have the mu­sic to back it up. I Loved You At Your Dark­est, their eleventh al­bum, is a wall of noise de­liv­ered with cin­e­matic in­tent. The black­ened bat­tery and gut­tural shrieks sum­moned by main­man Adam ‘Ner­gal’ Darski – still the only heavy metal singer to have opened a hair­dress­ing sa­lon and been ar­rested for rip­ping up a bible on stage – are punc­tu­ated by a 17-piece orches­tra, acous­tic in­ter­ludes and even a kids’ choir.

De­spite that, there’s no ca­pit­u­la­tion to cross­over po­ten­tial here – Darski has left the shiny pop cho­rusues and wink­ing blas­phemy to John­ny­come-latelys Ghost. The re­sult is di­a­bol­i­cally ex­hil­a­rat­ing.

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