Esoctrilihum

The sprawling Pandaemorthium (2018) is generally more formulaic black metal which drags on way too long. There is nothing wrong with Rotting Way of Damnation except that there is nothing exciting about it. Prison of Flesh stands out for impact and variety.

A muffled production increased the density of sound on Inhuma (2018), a return to form thanks to the torrential and breathless Exhortathyon Od Saths Scriptum (one of their career's peaks), the cannibal war dance Dramath Urh (one of the most repulsive and unpredictable compositions) and the incenerating wall of noise of Lorth Volth Lynhnzael. The 75-minute The Telluric Ashes of the OĻ Vrth Immemorial Gods (2019) employs an even more booming production, which further enhances the "battle" feeling of armored songs like Kros O Vrth and Listael V, and makes super-heavy songs like Invisible Manifestation of Delirium God more akin to bomb making than to music. The "progressive" approach of early Esoctrilihum shows up in Stone of Static, which benefits from vocal and instrumental variety, and in Torment of Death, with the most gossamer break of the album. There is, however, much that is redundant.

The deluge of music continued with the slightly more concise and much more user-friendly Eternity of Shaog (2020), aiming for a grand and majestic feeling that is more typical of doom-metal than of black metal. At the onset, Exh-Eni Soph boasts a catchy refrain and shows that the extremes can coexist by smoothly alternating and weaving together melodic sections and heavy sections. The guitar intones medieval-sounding refrains in Amenthlys over death-metal riffing. Pomp and melodrama erupt in Shayr-Thas. Eternity of Shaog is close to sounding like vintage-era industrial-punk Ministry. tries to conjure a The album incorporates folk instruments, although often in a rather trivial and amateurish way. Some kind of zither and keyboard join the pulverizing frenzy of Thritonh, perhaps the melodic zenith.

After 5 albums and 2 EPs in 4 years, Esoctrilihum continued to flood the Internet with self-produced releases. Unfortunately the quality was becoming inversely proportional to the quantity, and repetition was becoming the norm. He moved towards prog-metal and plain pop-metal on Dy'th Requiem for the Serpent Telepath (2021), with moody keyboards and strings-sounding synths to embellish trivial melodies like in Agakuh. Blast-beats are of wall-shaking degree in Dyth (which ends with a catchy carillon), but Baahl Duthr ends up sounding like dark-punk with growling vocals. Luckily, there is still plenty of energy in the thundering and infernal Nomines Haar and especially in the beastly and epileptic Xuiotg.

Consecration of the Spiritus Flesh (2022), an unusually short album, packs as much ferocity as the previous three combined, harking back to Inhuma. Spiritus Flesh makes one realize how the Sex Pistols would sound if they played black metal. It's mainly an album of demonic invocations, notably Shohih, still in search of the sweeping melody in Thertrh and of symphonic grandeur in Sydtg. Saopth's (2022), another relatively short album, feels like a collection of leftovers from Dy'th Requiem.

Funeral (2023) contains six lengthy pieces, starting with the pop-metal ballad Funeral, followed by self-indulgent displays of prog-metal that overstay their welcome like the 15-minute Thurldaesu. A pipe organ floods Pact but the effect quickly dissipates as the song drags on and on. Paithas, the standout, is impressive for how it employs multiple keyboard and string instruments next to some hard-rock riffs.