(FUTURE DEBUT ALBUM)
by GOD SEED
Label: Indie Recordings |
In the Olympic games of complete fucking bell-ends, King Ov Hell ranks higher (proportionally) than Usain Bolt does in being the fastest cunt on earth. Harbinger of such awful quotes in the press that big tits Pamela Anderson seems a feminine Steven Hawkins in comparison, uglier than Satan's ingrown toenail, scary like a virgin bloody mary, he exudes the vapid diarrhea image of a class A dickhead.
Having stood on stage with such ball-rash inducing bands as Gorgoroth, Y-Front staining crap slingers Sahg (possibly the worst band to ever come out of Norway), the ego wanking mirror arsefuck "I", and the ultimate insult to musical instruments: Audrey Horne (Yes most people don't know that this petri dish creature of unfortunate origins wrote most of their songs, yes, the shittest band since Djerv who actually had an album called Confessions and Alcohol ? WTF???). He has paved the way for complete tossers who live in their parents' basements to truly believe that listening to Nightwish and praying hard enough to lucifer will turn you into an idol/icon in the underground Norwegian Black Metal community. Unfortunately for King Ov Hell, most people consider him a complete twat.
His latest jaunt into keeping fresh and lubricated with Kroners was to take geeky worshippers on BLACK METAL TOURS OF OSLO, where he walked around (probably wearing corpse paint) and was a glorified holiday rep to spotty fuckers he would never spare a moments pity on, had they not come armed with credit cards.
The band photos look like three year olds who have taken shits on their friends and smeared it on their faces. They are as evil looking as a Lutheran curry dump. How the fuck can "grown" men in 2012 still think that corpse paint is revolutionary, or radical, or even petrifying? I can understand people having phobias of clowns, but dumb shits dressed in black, lacquered in upside down crosses and sprayed with fake tan that looks like talcum powder on a babies arse, I am left in utter spirals of disbelief.
And then there was the music. Lets not forget about that, or perhaps.........
With names like "Procreating Satan", "Teeth grinding" and "Carving a Giant" from the live record they released in 2011, you just know you´re in for a roller-coaster ride of imagined proportions. Welcoming back the "closet" homosexual who went to great lengths to disguise his sexual leanings while rodgering fans in Cologne in back-stages washed with chickens blood and the stench of misguided lives, the vocals that are supposed to echo Satans voice are as suppressed, reverb laden and wimpy as a post-coital cuddle with a care bear. Let me just fall on my sword and spill my silly blood all over the floor in demonstrations of puke-washed hatred at how shit it is that these toss pots can be taken seriously and afforded time and energy.
With the hopes of a cave dwelling world waiting for the release of their album, all I can hope is that the Mayans were correct and that we all end up slaughtered in a mud bath of hellish proportions rather than suffer through the degrading misery of listening to whatever the two biggest plums in Norway come up with.
God must be fucking laughing.