There’s something undeniably satisfying about a record that hates everything. Not in that try-hard, “look how edgy we are” kind of way, but in that genuine, throat-ripping, “I want to see the world burn and then dance in the ashes” sort of way. That’s exactly what you get with D.R.E.A.M., the third album from Brazilian Satanic Black Metal outfit Cultus Funeris — and trust me, I am absolutely fucking here for it.
D.R.E.A.M. (which I so hope stands for “Death Rules Everything Around Me”) is a slab of raw, furious, blasphemous brilliance that spits bile at the church, pisses on religion, and takes a steaming shit right in the baptismal font. It’s ugly, it’s hateful, and it’s everything that this kind of Black Metal should be.
From the first riff, this thing doesn’t so much start as it erupts. The guitars sound as if they’ve been sharpened on the bones of saints, slicing and gouging through the mix with a tone that’s both raw and razor precise. The drumming is an unrelenting barrage — blast beats that feel like artillery fire raining down from the heavens, mixed on with pounding rhythms that could be the sound of someone hammering in Christ’s nails. There’s a madness to the tempo, a wild, feverish energy that feels one step away from total collapse, and yet it never loses control. It’s chaos, but disciplined chaos — the kind that only comes from a band that knows exactly what kind of monster they’ve created.
Vocally, it’s pure venom. There’s no mistaking the intent here — this isn’t performance, this is conviction. The voice sounds like a preacher possessed, ranting in tongues, channeling every ounce of fury that centuries of religious hypocrisy have built up. It’s not just anti-Christian; it’s anti-everything. And it’s glorious.
The production is filthy, but not incompetent. It sits in that sweet spot where everything sounds like it’s been dragged through the dirt, but you can still make out every instrument. It’s got that perfect “church basement recorded through a cursed tape deck” sound — raw enough to feel dangerous, but powerful enough to leave a crater. The guitars buzz and drone, the bass just beneath the surface like a lurking demon, and the drums thunder like collapsing cathedrals.
What makes D.R.E.A.M. stand out from your average raw Black Metal affair, though, is its weight. Cultus Funeris know when to ease off the gas — not to give you peace, but to make the punishment hit harder when it returns. Between the flurries of blast beats and tremolo savagery, they drop into slower, leaden passages that sit on your chest like a baby elephant, pressing down until your lungs are screaming for air. These moments don’t just add variety; they amplify the rage. When the speed returns, it feels like an explosion.
And while there’s no mistaking the filth and fury here, there’s also a strange sense of grandeur buried beneath it all — a feeling that this isn’t just rage for the sake of rage, but something ritualistic. Something almost sacred in its desecration. You can hear it in the way the riffs spiral and repeat, creating this trance-like rhythm that pulls you deeper and deeper into the abyss.
D.R.E.A.M. is the sound of possession. It’s the sound of an unholy sermon echoing through a crumbling temple, of a congregation of lunatics worshipping nothing but the void. It’s what Black Metal is supposed to be — dangerous, confrontational, unapologetic, and utterly uncompromising.
And it’s that last part that really seals it for me. There’s no pretense here, no modern polish, no desperate attempt to appeal to anyone outside the cult. Cultus Funeris are doing this for themselves, for the dark flame, for the sheer joy of spitting in God’s eye and daring Him to blink.
By the end of the album, you don’t feel cleansed — you feel defiled, and that’s exactly the point.
D.R.E.A.M. by Cultus Funeris is available via this link.
CHOICE CUT: Codex Omega Inversus
BLACK METAL ARCHIVES VERDICT: A hateful, glorious bastard of an album. D.R.E.A.M. by Cultus Funeris is a sermon of fire and filth, where every note drips with venom and every riff feels like an act of desecration. Raw, relentless, and absolutely fucking righteous. Brazil continues to bring the blasphemy.
