Dimmu Borgir - Abrahadabra
Fucking Nicolas Cage’s ex-wife might be fun, but it isn’t very Metal. Neither is this new output from Dimmu Borgir, which just might be the biggest disappointment of 2010. Probably my favorite Black Metal band for the last few years, not because they were the truest or most kvlt; far from it. Just because everyone else started writing one-man College Black Metal for Hydra Head. What’s wrong with this album? You name it, it sucks. 2,643,098-piece choirs, 745,876-piece orchestras, more experimental vocal mistakes than George W. Bush’s terms, and everything just so over-the-top theatrically dramatized that it doesn’t even resemble Black Metal. Just the name of the album alone reeks of cartoon gayness. It’s like some dark Glee episode, or a Rock Opera about fucking dudes. I know they underwent some lineup changes, but I didn’t expect them to write a play and pass it off as what I’m sure they’ll say is their best album ever. Sometimes you don’t need to hire Brock Lesnar to open the pickle jar. It’s just fucking Black Metal, or at least it was.
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