A disturbing entity from the Japan is the one called Begräbnis. The Sendai band, born as C’Est La Guerre, perhaps in homage to the first vocalist, the French Nuclear Blasphemer, then turned to a German moniker and hired Fumika Souzawa at the microphone, a remarkable performer both from a vocal point of view, with the transition from extreme tones to different timbres more feminine, and scenic. In the first years of their career, the band recorded only two demos, Begräbnis (2012) and Neunundvierzig (2013), which constituted their most conspicuous musical legacy for a long time, to which must be added the three tracks included in as many split albums, the last of which dates back to 2017: in essence, a little more than an hour of unreleased music proposed in the space of a decade was enough to get an idea of the characteristics of the sound offered, but too little to think of leaving important marks. The funeral of Begräbnis up to that moment proved to be not very linear or obvious, living of industrial dissonances and assorted experiments that in the long run ended up diluting the disturbing impact exhibited when they limited themselves to a simpler, raw and linear sound. In short, what seemed to be a combo capable of writing a few pages of good impact had up to that point dispersed energies in the rivulets of interesting releases that, in the long run, left no time to be found. After a long silence, in the autumn of 2020, the first full length entitled Izanaena arrives almost unexpected, the work capable of transforming the Begräbnis caterpillar into a deadly butterfly with black wings. The four long tracks finally see realized the previous wishes: the sound is enriched by an element hitherto unknown as the melody, always inserted in a context as distressing and not entirely free of the experimental nature of the band, this allows the terrifying Fumika’s wheeze to become itself an instrument bearer of doom and funereal messages as well as the guitar, time to build painful lines in a context that, wanting to make a comparison, does not go so far from the best Worship. Here then Begräbnis are able to give us a magnificent song like Hangetsu (Haniwari), which Souzawa’s growl, at times incredibly contiguous to Tomas Jensen’s, allows us to hear the fulfilment of an unmentionable desire such as listening to Saturnus in a version dedicated to the darkest and most depressive funeral doom. The other three tracks have smaller openings but remain equally huge boulders of sound that take no prisoners, leaving only the desire to start again at the end of the listening triggering a sort of self-flagellating loop, always purpose of the Japanese trio able to realize it fully with Izanaena.

2020 – Weird Truth Productions 2021 – Viva Angel Press