furzeImagine if you will that black metal is a deck of cards. The Spades are the originators, the first and second wave, although of course the Ace is Motorhead, nobody is going to take that away from them. The Clubs are the bestial and thy orthodox, those that take the dark arts as seriously as possible, unmovable in their devotion. The Diamonds can be the avant-garde and the industrialists, those that experiment and the Hearts those that gaze and move things into post black territories. Then of course you are going to have a couple of jokers in the pack. That is where we find Furze, an artist who is far from serious, defies convention and is running amok causing mischief.

Unfortunately being a joker does not mean that musically things are going to be good and there was no doubt a reason why this album sat on our reviews list for a few weeks before I felt sorry for it and decided to download and cover. I should have known better as I am sure I have encountered Trondheim resident Woe J Reaper, the sole person behind this in the past. He has been about since 1999 in the Furze guise making odd titled sounding albums such as ‘Trident Autocrat’ and ‘Necromangee Cogent’ as well as no doubt popping up here and there when least expected. I was intrigued by the premise of doomy, psychedelic blackness though even if this is apparently rawer and more primal than his last album ‘Psych Minus Space Control’ of four years ago. The thought “noooo what have I done” was quickly going through my head though seconds after pressing play the first time.

‘Sathanas is Here’ is a title that can only be tongue in cheek and it is ushered in with booming timpani drum and then what can only be described as a mad dervish of chaotic guitar licks spiralling completely out of control. This is utter lunacy with little in the way of control and sits there up with the likes of Abruptum and It for what can only be described as complete silliness. Falling over itself the riffs are constant with wild shrieks and deranged calls coming out the background like trolls in the forest overdosing on mushrooms. I can only beseech the dark lord here to get me through the next 7 tracks which follow in no less regard for sanity of the listener. I mean what the hell is this guy on with song titles like ‘A Blacksmith for the Souls of Metal’ and ‘Flight of the Battish Cauldron.’ Playing skills and song structures are completely debatable. We get long periods of meandering instrumental dribbling and then sudden flurries that sound like a swarm of wasps attacking. Gargles and gurgles are vocally coated throughout and who knows what gibberish the actual lyrics are about. The recording is primitive, lo-fi and suitably home studio and I can only wonder what sort of anakvltist would actually own up to thinking this would good and actually enjoying it. Then again I can’t imagine the reaper behind it all giving a flying one. Even more perplexing Fenriz went and gave Furze his band of the week accolade. Yep that’s week not weak!

The more that I listen though the more I find the whole thing funny and warming to it in a way. It’s like the little kid being bullied throughout school, someone has to be their friend and give them a helping hand. It’s no surprise this is a one man project either, who the hell would work with Furze? But as I carry on listening to a segment of what passes for bad pub rock, misanthropy takes over, after all it’s the Reaper that has put himself in this position and is making this uncouth, undisciplined racket, nobody else is to blame.

Back to the cards and there’s no keeping a poker face here and all I can do is shout out “bum deal” and fold as quickly as possible.

(3/10 Pete Woods)

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