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Reveal Your Soul For The Dead - Illdisposed


I'm still unsure on what I need to say about the Reveal Your Soul For The Dead. I love Illdisposed and the many good moments we have shared, both on the stage and to the various festive, homely apartments. It is not the plate, that draw us apart, but it reminds too much about all what we have heard from the kings of bølledød, and it seems as if knytterne is half-hearted now. It is the old Illdisposed with the new Illdisposed, and for someone it should probably be a dream come true. I think it is a plate, which with time will unfold and come to its right, and I don't care about the glass, I get in the head, is freshly cleaned. I would rather have a good, old-fashioned ass out in front of the room than the half-hearted threats at the cocktail bar – but it's probably just me and my stockholm syndrome of its.

"Mrs. Fernando Møghe is dead"

If you know the that metal, so, you know, with the guarantee also of Illdisposed. They have spread fear and horror in Northern europe in nearly 30 years, and their origin in the royal mould has equipped them with a bottom that is is just as solid as the Bo Summer's dialect. Through the years they have sampled countless Danish movie classics – plus the resolve – to set the mood of their respective hits, and they have gradually acquired the same status in the Danish metalscene, as Matador has in the Danish filmkanon. But how stands it as to the in the camp Illdisposed? There is still fire in the bag, or is barslagsmålet gone in itself?

"Let the old go on the toilet, krafthelvede"

The last time Illdisposed kicked down the door and patted us on the head, I was very happy to hear that they had gone back to that time, death was a little more dangerous, while they still preserved the essence of the jysk hatred. I shall not go into detail with what makes every single number to something jack is special, for it I can not. There is not the great musical fluctuations on the plate, no "now we try to experiment with x". This time is the trick, however, less obvious. Instead to shake you until you get nosebleeds, it feels most like a malicious attempt to, in general, the you your pin and your dignity. It's all still unmistakably Illdisposed, good and evil.

Yes yes, the record opens with the surprisingly sludgede title track, but the Live sounds like Live, the drums sound as they should in Illdisposed, and everything is just as it always has been; with harsh hooks and customize melodic solos – it should not be for pussy force. Otherwise we are back in the good old days, where Illdisposed ruled as a Danish death metal. The difference at the time and now is the production and mix. The two are right in the eye and favors none, which is the plate good as a whole. But unfortunately, this means also, that the charm of a kæberasler with brass knuckles has had to give way to threats of the same. Even though it sounds familiar, it doesn't sound like a mengrad, which triggers a greater sum insured.

>> Check the songs and lyrics here