Desecrating the memory of early black metal by slam-dancing across its grave with distinctly hardcore intentions, Danish wrecking crew Hexis make music that is about as black-hearted and white-hot as it comes.
Their ragged approach on opener Faciem recalls Burzum, back when production values were jettisoned in favour of raw emotion to create a sort of bastard Nordic blues. When Hexis crank it up a notch and hit their stride on Tenebris, they kick up a heartfelt, nasty noise reminiscent of the early recordings of Iceland’s Mínus. It’s post-hardcore, but without the wimpy, weepy connotations that such an over-used tag brings with it. In fact, Hexis seem to exist purely to fuck your ears right off your head.
Criticisms? Like so much of this stuff, the dynamics lose impact when repeated ad infinitum. After 12 tracks Hexis begin to sound less like an evil force intent on summoning the King Of Hell – after whom this album is named – up from the underworld and more like an industrial hoover that’s been left on in an empty sepulchre. That’s no bad thing but just a bit – y’know – samey.
