Wretch by Pestilential Shadows marks the Australian Black Metal veterans’ eighth descent into the abyss — and my very first encounter with their brand of sonic torment. Judging by Wretch alone, I’ll be plunging headfirst into their back catalogue before too long.
This is Black Metal stripped of gimmicks and distractions — pure, raw, frostbitten fury, carrying the same primal weight that erupted when Mayhem first looked at “normal” metal and said, “Not nearly evil enough.”
Wretch isn’t here to reinvent the corpse-painted wheel — it’s here to grind it through bone and ash until what’s left is a smouldering monument to bleakness.
The riffs are cold but not lifeless, steeped in that classic tremolo-picked venom, with enough atmosphere to conjure visions of blasted wastelands and ritual fires without slipping into the dreaded “post” territory, meaning that Pestilential Shadows keep it firmly in the realm of grim, corpse-strewn tradition.
The production walks the tightrope Black Metal often falls off — raw enough to feel dangerous, clear enough to let the violence breathe. There’s no mud, no sterile sheen, just a suffocating wall of guitars and shrieked proclamations spat like venom from the mouth of a dying god. It’s the kind of record that feels like it was recorded in a tomb at midnight — and I mean that as praise.
The album thrives in consistency rather than cheap shocks. Tracks bleed into one another like chapters in the same unholy sermon, each riff another lash across the faithful. But there are moments — brief, chilling melodic turns, or a drum fill that feels like a war march in hell — where Wretch claws at something transcendent, that rare spark that reminds you why Black Metal remains one of the most potent forms of extreme music.
Lyrically, there’s an almost literary darkness at play. It’s not just evil for evil’s sake; there’s a sense of weight, of genuine despair and loathing that feels earned rather than borrowed from genre clichés. The vocals, too, are appropriately inhuman — not just screamed but exhaled like a dying breath from somewhere deep and festering.
Ultimately, Wretch doesn’t try to save Black Metal, nor does it spit on its corpse. It simply is Black Metal — fierce, focused, and faithful to the roots while carrying enough venom in its veins to keep things compelling. For my first foray into Pestilential Shadows, it’s a convincing invitation to plunge further into the darkness they’ve been cultivating for years, and one I will quite happily take.
If you’re looking for frills, polish, or modern experiments — this isn’t it. But if what you want is an album that understands the primal thrill of the genre, that honors the chaos while sharpening it into something precise and deadly, Wretch will leave you grinning through the blood and the frost.
Wretch by Pestilential Shadows is available now.
CHOICE CUT: Where Sunlight Goes To Die
RATING: 3.5 OUT OF 5
RATING SYSTEM:
- 0: Fucking Shit
- 1: Shit
- 2: Not Bad Shit
- 3: Pretty Good Shit
- 4: Amazing Fucking Shit
- 5: The Best Shit You Will Ever Hear
PRESS SOURCE: Cátia C./Against PR.
