From high spilled forth a flood of plagues;
Like banners we wore harsh disease,
Bereft of faith, counting the days,
As dead beasts slept in bloody seas.
We curled our tongues for one spare drop;
Ground our teeth in want of respite.
Perching cruel vials from clouds they sat atop,
They drowned the world in ceaseless night.
And still we did not fear his name,
So in his heed for love of man
Called down the sun with awful flames.
We all took the place of the lamb.
At last they tipped the final bowl.
We felt the earth commence to shake.
Great fissures gulped the cities whole,
Our homes lost in the violent quakes.
Feeble, we watched glory fade;
Witnessed ruin where beauty stood.
Thus he rested on the sabbath day,
For he saw that it was good.
supported by 4 fans who also own “The Seven Bowls of Wrath”
Consistency is really fucking important. Many artists will knock one good release out of the park and then drown in irrelevance thereafter, because nothing followed. For Arkhtinn, consistency seems to be as natural and easy as breathing in your sleep. Not only do they never release anything subpar, they instead seem to improve with every release. V contains the meanest of all their black metal tracks so far, combined with the most fragile and beautiful ambient piece. De rigueur! David Fischer
Tokyo band contrast black metal's brutal complexity with shoegaze's abyssal grandeur, resulting in an LP that feels crushing, yet infinite. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 24, 2022