Unholy. Fucking. Shit. I love this record. No, scratch that — I worship this record. Wrath’s Obliteration by Myrdinger is one of those rare beasts that doesn’t just play Black Metal — it weaponises it. It’s pure, unfiltered chaos distilled into sound; a barrage of hatred and velocity so intense it feels like being caught inside a collapsing star made of molten obsidian and spite.
From the first moment this thing explodes, you know you’re in for it. There’s no build-up, no ambient preamble, no “setting the scene.” Myrdinger don’t bother to warn you — they simply kick down the door, set fire to your living room, and start screaming hymns to damnation while your furniture melts. The riffs are monstrous, relentless, tearing through flesh and sanity alike. The drumming? Imagine a freight train made of bones smashing through a hospital. It’s so fast, so fucking violent, that it borders on the supernatural.
What Wrath’s Obliteration does better than most so-called “extreme” records is never let up. There’s no mercy here, no reprieve, no moment to breathe — and yet, it’s never monotonous. The chaos moves. It breathes. Every second is crafted to feel like it’s spiralling further and further out of control, yet it somehow remains locked in that sweet spot between absolute anarchy and total precision. You get the sense that this band could play all of this live without missing a beat — and if they did, the earth itself would probably split open and swallow us all.
The bass runs alone are enough to make you question the laws of physics. They shouldn’t be possible — it’s like listening to a human being channel electricity through their fingertips. The guitars scorch through the mix, each note screaming with hellfire, and when the solos hit… Jesus wept. It’s like a sonic guillotine coming down over and over again, each time faster and sharper.
And the vocals — dear fucking Satan, the vocals. This isn’t someone singing; this is possession caught on tape. It’s as if Quorthon himself has been dragged from the grave, drenched in virgin blood, and told to rage against the heavens one last time. It’s that raw, that feral, that real.
What sets Wrath’s Obliteration apart isn’t just its speed or its savagery — it’s the sheer conviction behind it. Myrdinger sound like a band that would die for every note. This isn’t music made for recognition or acclaim; this is music made for the abyss. It’s ritualistic violence rendered through art, and it’s magnificent.
By the time it’s over, you’re left broken — bloodied, battered, grinning like a lunatic. Your ears ring, your heart races, and your brain feels like it’s been dragged backwards through the gates of Hell. But you’ll hit play again anyway. Because that’s what the best Black Metal does — it punishes you, and you thank it for the privilege.
Wrath’s Obliteration is available now from the Myrdinger Bandcamp page.
CHOICE CUT: Crowded of Souls
BLACK METAL ARCHIVES VERDICT: A feral, incandescent explosion of pure sonic violence. Wrath’s Obliteration isn’t just fast — it’s furious, a perfect storm of musicianship and malice that will melt your soul and still leave you begging for another round.
