Black metal’s wide-ranging milieu encompasses many sub-genres—1st wave, 2nd wave, raw, symphonic, atmospheric, post—the list goes on. One niche of the black metalsphere, with neither a large sample size nor a large following, is black metal smashed hip-hop. Sure, some artists come to mind: Ghostemane, for one; then there’s what Zeal & Ardor is doing, as well as Déhà’s project NADDDIR, which melds flashes of black metal with trap beats and cloud rap.1 Tossing his spliff in the ashtray as it were is the mysterious Berliner, Foghazer, with his Hypnotic Dirge debut, He Left the Temple, an album comprised of nine, singularly titled tracks that cumulatively read “‘He’ ‘Left’ ‘The’ ‘Temple’ ‘And’ ‘Fog’ ‘Followed’ ‘Him’ ‘Out,”‘ and described by the artist as “low-visibility sound: slow beats, distorted memory and fog as both space and emotion.” Will Foghazer open the floodgates to a new sub-sub-sub-genre, or be just another basement-dwelling one-man band exiting his parents’ lowest-level ‘temple’ in a haze of pot smoke and lo-fi tuneage in search of munchies.
If Moderator2 and Portishead got down and “black metal” dirty with Burzum in some hole in the wall no-tell motel, the offspring of that union would sound like Foghazer. Eschewing nearly all vocals, He Left the Temple employs trip-hoppy drum beats with occasional blasts and jazz fills, moody-smooth bass lines, and eerily plucked or Filosofem-level reverb-drenched guitars to armor the majority of its aural palette.3 Toss in some scratchy, Portishead-style turntablism, operatic female soprano warblings, Master Boot Record-type bleepity-bloops (“He,” “Followed”) amidst other random sounds, and you’ve got the gist of what’s happening here. He Left the Temple strikes a decent cinematic chord, evoking a lo-res film noir experience that, at least in my mind’s movie, follows Foghazer and his gang of corpse-painted black metal beatniks as they roam the harsh streets of an “every-city” looking for trouble.
He Left The Temple by Foghazer
Laid-back and gloomy, Foghazer does a good job of setting a mood; He Left the Temple would serve equally well as a lounge-lizard soundtrack looping endlessly in an edgy, urban underground cigar-and-whiskey bar as it would a score for some Werner Herzog black metal remake of the movie Kids. “Left” has a slow, eerie build that transitions from creepy, singular guitar plucks to a double-bass rolling foundation that supports some nice, melodic riff patterns. “Fog” is another standout; its trippy bass line and trap beats trade punches with passages of doomy tremolos and double bass rolls, and had me thinking, ‘this is what Darkthrone might sound like if they took a stab at this kind of thing.’ There were many moments where I found myself slipping comfortably into the groove that Foghazer was laying down, my rollin’-through-Oslo-in-my-tricked-out-hearse head bob in full effect. Unfortunately, not all of the fog in the temple envelops completely.
There is a dark thread of similitude running through nearly all of He Left the Temple that impacted my overall experience. Foghazer rinses and repeats his compositional formula such that, if you were to cycle through the first five seconds of every track from “He” to “Fog,” each begins in much the same way, which cumulatively has a hypnotizing effect that takes you out of what’s happening more than it draws you in. I kept checking the track number every so often to see if I’d mistakenly played the same song over again. The other demerit I must levy against He Left the Temple occurs when Foghazer leans heaviest into his black metal. “Temple” is the most glaring example of this as it begins pensively, with some brooding bass tones and spindly guitar plucks before settling into its trip-hop beat section, which gets rudely interrupted at the 1:25 mark by an obnoxious blast beat that continuously pulses under those creepy guitars. This track also contains Foghazer’s only vocals, which, for us, is a blessing in disguise since I find his particular brand of shriek rather grating.
There’s some cool stuff going on in He Left the Temple, but this is nothing that’s going to put Foghazer on the map. I appreciate the groove and mood he’s able to create at times, but as a mostly instrumental album, the lack of any additional engaging dynamics left me wanting more from Foghazer. As it stands, He Left the Temple makes for some entertaining background music, but not much more.
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192kbps mp3
Label: Hypnotic Dirge Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: March 27th, 2026
When it comes to snakes and music, I’m a simple man. I think of Testament’s Brotherhood of the Snake, High on Fire’s Snakes for the Divine, Deicide’s Serpents of the Light, and Sir Mix-a-Lot. And now Philadelphia’s Crotaline1 slithers in flaunting first-wave-of-black-metal ballads rife with references to snake genitalia. Black metal’s second wave garners most of the attention, having shaped what most consider to be the genre’s trve north, but Mayhem, Darkthrone, Immortal, and Emperor never would have become what they are without Bathory’s lo-fi virulence, Venom’s proto-thrashed, punk-informed edgelording, and Celtic Frost’s sinister atmospheres and doomy trudges. First-wave black metal fairly characterizes what Crotaline provides on debut The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, as it’s ridden with direct, unadorned riffing, torturous plods, and a classically DIY aesthetic. Crotaline’s debut sounds like a blast, and I hope it is—my anaconda don’t want none unless it’s got fun, hun.
In many senses, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire is a primitive album. Crotaline relates carnal tales of ophidian lust in straightforward spurts of stripped-down metal, preferring uncomplicated riffs and instrumentation to deliver their herpetological gospel. In this way, Crotaline reminds me more of Hellhammer than Bathory or Celtic Frost. Tom G. Warrior’s (Triptykon) first project,2 Hellhammer distinguished itself more for its chaos and enthusiasm than its execution. Similarly, The Embrace of Cloacal Desire attacks with zealous verve, flitting through nine tracks of intermittently thrashy and doom-laden black metal. Despite the bold mashup of genres, though, Crotaline never quite brings their fangs within striking distance.
The Embrace of Cloacal Desire by Crotaline
Two primary issues plague The Embrace of Cloacal Desire, and each boils down to the same root cause—simplicity. While the drums supply a commendable rhythmic thunder, mostly Crotaline’s performance either plays too safe or lacks the technical firepower to achieve big moments. After a protracted minute-and-a-half intro, opener “Breeding the End” gets properly started. Unleashing a classic thrash riff recalling Bonded by Blood-era Exodus, a peppy bass groove joins in to underpin the melody. The pace slows at the chorus, cutting to a second riff before wending back to the main one. “Widow’s Web” kicks in next, treating listeners to a Venom-meets-Bathory hook that, just like the preceding song, tamps the brakes for vocals and a bridge. The pattern wears thin quickly, and The Embrace of Cloacal Desire suffers from this constricted songwriting—particularly in the back half. Too many half-formed ideas reach for big moments, only to topple into funereal crawls. For an album dedicated to dangerous snakes and sex organs, too often I’m left unthrilled and unfulfilled.
Ultimately, the lack of memorable passages and songs leaves The Embrace of Cloacal Desire as drab and listless as a shed snakeskin. Solid building blocks reside in Crotaline’s DNA, but the shapes of their assembled structures never coalesce into more than their constituent components. Where varying tempos can effectively lead to dynamic pacing and musical climaxes, Crotaline’s overuse of the fast-to-slow momentum shifts undercuts their songwriting. “As the Serpents Feast” exits the chorus and launches into a punky bridge begging for a wailing solo, but instead delivers an understated, unconvincing lead lacking excitement and dexterity. “Red Moon of Despair” starts promisingly enough, yet drops to a two-minute slog of glacial pacing. The same framework repeats on “Beneath the Reeds,” and yet again on “Hemipenes; The Embrace of Cloacal Desire.” Rather than mirroring a narrative or cleverly subverting expectations, these pivots can seem haphazard or lazy, leading to either frustration or boredom.
In spite of a great album concept and comparisons to bands I enjoy, Crotaline’s debut fails to charm my snake. Predictable songwriting and uninspired performances make The Embrace of Cloacal Desire’s thirty-five minutes feel longer than they are, and no song manages to entirely sidestep these issues. Even so, it takes guts to write this wild shit, and even more so to memorialize these ideas in song. Venom lurks within Crotaline, but the band needs to retool their bite. Hopefully they can figure it out and give us a rousing sophomore resurgence. Until then, I’m left to wonder if maybe I’m bored with it, or maybe it’s Crotaline.
Rating: Bad
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 3rd, 2026
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