Blackest Review ov White Death’s White Death!


Q: What is best in life?

A: To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentations of their women!

There is “black metal” and then there is black metal. And then there is the one and only trve incarnation of ultimate might, carnage & darkness: BLACK FVCKING METAL. For the purpose of today’s discussion we shall dispense with all puny other incarnations because they are false, impure and require “quotation marks” and/or “air quotes”. Finland’s White Death play nothing but BLACK FVCKING METAL exclusively and require only spikes, torches and frost. If you lack access to any of these three elements of BLACK FVCKING METAL then you probably shouldn’t even try listening to White Death’s debut album, White Death, because chances are you lack the fortitude to withstand the RIFFS and are probably also a beta, if not a total fvcking cuck. If you think you’ve got the balls to handle White Death’s crushing blitzkrieg ov devastation then go ahead and press play. Just make sure you’ve got a safe space nearby because you are about to be SERIOUSLY TRIGGERED.



A comprehensive knowledge and appreciation of all trve second wave black metal BLACK FVCKING METAL is not exactly necessary for you to understand just how crushingly savage and belligerently un-fuck-with-able White Death trvely is. Then again, if you don’t worship every canonical release from the second wave and don’t jerk off to photos of Dead’s self-inflicted gunshot wound and don’t express yourself exclusively through YouTube clips of Darkthrone‘s Transylvanian Hunger and don’t remind everyone you know on a daily basis that De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas is the best fvcking BLACK FVCKING METAL album ever recorded then you will probably have no frame of reference for why White Death is the THIRD FVCKING CVMMING ov the SECOND FVCKING CVMMING ov the FIRST FVCKING CVMMING ov BLACK FVCKING METAL.


If you are still reading this review then you are obviously a trve warrior ov the battle against the insipid Abrahamic religions and the pussy-ass miscegenations of untrve quote-unquote “black metal”. For sure you must already be listening in awe to what White Death has wrought, feeling the sting of hateful tremolos and the curb-kick of the blastbeats and the masculine and not at all feminine Moon Magick of the synths and the throat-raping glory of the icy vokills and the irrepressible cavalcade of riff after Riff after RIFF. White Death play BLACK FVCKING METAL the way it was in the beginning, the way it was always meant to be and the way it will always be!! With utmost strength, ancient purity and Satanic Will! Nothing impure or weak will withstand this march of power! All will be rendered unto destruction, violation and woe! This is not “music”! This is FVCKING WAR!!!

I’m not even going to bother talking about separate tracks because if you are a trve ancient knight of the iron wolf who howls to the un-feminine moon then you will love, hail and worship them all. Well, okay, I do want to highlight the most rebellious and unrepentant six-six-sixth track, tersely and charmingly titled “Cunt”. It is probably the best break-up song ever written. Why sit around whining “She fuck’n hates me!” when you could cut right to the quick? Who cares what she thinks or how she feels? She is a woman and thus a weakling and her feelings do not matter. What matters is not what you feel (you don’t have feelings, you are Frost Incarnate); what matters is what you THINK. Because you are a MAN and you are POWERFUL and your opinions are FACTS and they are always TRVE and never ever ever in any imaginable way FALSE. Your girlfriend broke up with you because she doesn’t understand spikes or torches or frost and is also probably a fuck’n witch to boot. Thus she should be shamed through verbal and psychological abuse and then probably burned at the stake.

In conclusion, here is all you need to know:




Seriously, what a bunch of basic-bitch-ass riffs. I have heard every riff on this album a thousand times, usually in more interesting songs. Their presentation here is so textbook, so nauseatingly derivative. The musicianship is proficient, I guess, yet utterly uninspired and stale. The production is so sterile, so flat, like fresh cardboard. The most interesting part of the album is that hilarious little vocal yip that kicks off “Kaste”—the sound of a child watching you break its favorite toy. Oh and then there’s that swashbuckling, mead-sloshing, boot-stompin’ singalong at the end of the album that is just…oh boy…words escape me. Goofy pirate outro aside, this is black metal 101, kiddies. Did you bring your lunchbox? Hope your mommy packed you some cookies.



White Death will be released by Werewolf Records on February 17th.


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