The thing about death metal is you really have to position yourself for the long dimensional journey it shapes. You can’t expect to just scrape the surface and actually experience the whole depth of the form. It’s a special language: one with particular nooks, unique variations, and uncommon apexes. You have to really let the music overtake your soul, and transcend with it through its dialing propulsion. Old school Swedish legions Centinex know this discourse very well. Formed in 1990, disbanded in 2006, and reformed in 2014, these Swedes arrange the mathematical death metal pattern like a raging Einstein: every formula equaling ascension, escapism, and technical absolution. Their new album Doomsday Rituals runs the futuristic gauntlet like silk oceans: calm and then wickedly exploding, but all within a hardened framework. To get there takes effort.
At first glance Doomsday Rituals appears ritualistic: perhaps we’ve seen this story before. Perhaps, you think, you don’t need to take the trip…wrong. This album is a quality reminder of how epic straight-up death metal really is. The record will pull you in with its spectacular grasp of syntax, its revelatory moods, and its perfect zoned-out chorus growls. Head banging your way to oblivion, you’ll be reminded of your early introduction to death metal—the special feeling it had—with its wild communication and unbridled energy.
If this is your first trip, there’s no better place to start than with this album. A grower that peeks between valleys of perfectly executed excursions; the record showcases a death metal fury for the purists, the dreamers, and the uninitiated alike. Sandwiched in between killer numbers “The Shameful Few” (a doom and death sing-a-long) and “Exist To Feed” (a slab of churning bounce), the instrumental “Doomsday” sneaks up on you and elaborates perfectly on the unique death metal structure. It rips you up and really lets you in.
And once you’re in, there’s no turning back. The dance of Centinex is a wicked one. Doomsday Rituals rests its sculpted shoulders on the Doric columns of a legendary death metal past, but it’s also simultaneously very modern, and the kind of album you should pick up—especially if you’re interested in learning a new language. I’m talking about you—the person who’s searching for something new, something technical, something with attitude, with weight, and something that happily nods to the great space that lies out infinitely ahead of us. (Christopher J. Harrington)