#iron-bonehead-productions — Public Fediverse posts

The spirit of metal has always been transgressive. Even though the genre can no longer be epitomized by a group of men with long hair, wearing all black, screaming about Satan and death,1, there remains an element that threatens an established order or sensibility. This is most obvious in the sound itself, which apparently turns a majority of listeners away even as it attracts weirdos like us. But while we may roll our eyes at metal of any kind being dismissed as ‘just noise’ and ‘horrible’, there are some cases where we can acknowledge that the music in question really is very inaccessible. Then we’re confronted with that same transgressiveness non-metalheads face when they listen to less-extreme metal, and enjoyment—let alone qualitative assessment—becomes complex. So it was when I was faced with Dhrupad Anutpada (ধপদ অন$ৎপ&দ): Apophatic Ragas Of Non-Origination, the debut of Indian/Canadian act Nirriti whose intense blackened noise is paired with a philosophical theme that denies the occurrence of creation. Its heresy is every bit as transcendentally horrifying as it sounds.

Nirriti are fully committed to their unorthodoxy. As members of black/noise circle Kolkata Inner Order Propaganda—along with Tetragrammacide, Necrodeity, among others—the trio demonstrate a level of nightmarishness worthy of the circle’s proclaimed “esoterrorism.” Not only is the lyrical theme bizarre yet intriguing, but the music is some of the most oppressive I’ve ever heard. For context, after finishing my first play-through of Dhrupad Anutpada, I decided to listen to Portal to “wind down.” Nirriti’s use of guitar as something from which to make a shuddering wall of sound, from which the occasional dissonant tremolo scale creeps out, is somewhat similar to Portal’s. Here, this wall feels still more monolithic due to Dodecahedron-on-steroids percussive violence that breaks away from a cacophonous blast, only to smash any hint of quiet with cymbals. Omnipresent vocal reverb, that iterates nigh on every hellish roar into a multiplicity of frightening confusion and chaos, becomes the final smothering layer in Dhrupad Anutpada’s impenetrable shroud of horror.

Up to this point, everything I’ve said about Dhrupad Anutpada could be taken positively or negatively—a quirk of how we often discuss extreme metal. This cognitive dissonance is as central to the proper experience of the album as literal harmonic dissonance. Nirriti’s take on noisy brutality approaches the hypnotic as they infuse passages with a sense of repetition through just-audible repeating scales and the aforementioned flickering echoes of vocals (“Mandukya…,”2 “In the Hallways…”). This creates a viscerally chilling sense of a tape skipping or playing backwards, or of the dizziness you feel just before you faint. It’s strange, but such passages grip the listener more powerfully than those where the reverb and blackened sensibility soften to allow the riffs breathing room (“One Foot…,” “Glissando…”), though the latter do reset the sempiternal rhythm, and inject needed jabs of urgency at their best (“One foot…,” “Golden Yolk…”). The relentless drumming, often more prominent than the guitars, serves primarily as a propeller to churn up these waters, such that it becomes a perverse relief when it settles into a battering, crashing attack (“In the Hallways…,” “Golden Yolk…,” “Vilambit Laya…”); because you can at least count the blows.

Dhrupad Anutpada maintains a consistent level of intensity thanks to these constant, if sometimes subtle, fluctuations. Creeping guitar ascents (“In the Hallways…,”), a rhythmic syncopation between roars and drums (“Mandukya…”), and the sudden breaks into noise (“Glissando…”) or the comparative ease of dissonant death metal (“One Foot…”) keep one hooked, straining one’s ears to catch the nuances in this chthonic chaos. Nirriti display an impressive command of their craft, turning harsh vocals into a weapon of horror, wielding guitars like percussion and percussion like punishment. It’s clearly intended to overwhelm and unsettle its audience. The problem is that it’s perhaps too successful, Dhrupad Anutpada being so exhausting that it can make one feel physically nauseated. After many listens, once the initial shock has passed, it’s easier to spot the places Nirriti reuse their tricks, and the corresponding movements lose a little potency (“In the Hallways…,” “Vilambit Laya…”).

I want to believe Dhrupad Anutpada is as profound as it presents itself. There is something to be said for an album that so powerfully confronts and terrifies its listener—it is the very essence of metal and the heart of philosophical unorthodoxy. Yet Nirriti tread a touch too far into the formless abyss to reach all but the most dedicated acolytes of the heretical metal underground. Dhrupad Anutpada may open your mind, but it’s just as likely to send you scrambling, horrified, away from the nightmare Nirriti have unleashed.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Websites: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: June 19th, 2026

In a genre as insular as the often meme’d-and-mocked “one man raw black metal” offerings, Black Cilice have managed to become kind of a big deal. With an early release schedule that makes Coffins look like a bunch of slackers, their output has finally begun to slow down over the years, going from multiple splits and demos in one season to multi-year bouts of interruption. Votive Fire comes after an unusual four-year gap between full-lengths, claiming a slightly improved production and an emphasis on bigger songs. Black Cilice have been on a bit of an evolutionary bent as of late, transitioning from an almost impenetrable wall of noise into crafters of riffs with real might without sacrificing mood. I was curious to see how this newest creation would manifest itself, so go get your favorite goat to sacrifice and come take a walk through the fires with me.

How raw is raw? While older Black Cilice albums channel piercing treble tones through wind-tunnel cacophony, later works have tinkered with just a touch of varied emphasis. Previous LP Esoteric Atavism had decipherable leads which shimmered over the blast-heavy chords, and recent EP Tomb Emanations1 had a radical focus on emphasized doomy chord progressions in lieu of sheer assault. Votive Fire continues this slight change, returning to the more fog-and-moonlight murk of Transfixion of Spirits, but this time the band gives the listener a slightly brighter lantern. The drums have the bass kick cranked way up, giving every slowed rhythm a tribal pulse. The rest of the kit benefits too, with the expected speed in bits of “Into the Inner Temple” letting cymbals shine brightly in their fills and accents, somehow well articulated while still buried enough to offend people looking for something with the clarity of Necrophobic.

The net result of this production is an album that seeks to be meditative and soothing more than frightening and oppressive. The compositional approach of Votive Fire is four long songs that pick a key motif and then, ever so slightly, tweak and evolve the main riff through tempo changes and sustained chord pounding. It’s in these slower moments that the Fire shines the brightest; see the climactic slowdown ending “Released by Fire”, where the open space lets the drums run full scales while the looping chord progressions slowly build tension before exploding into another burst of speed without losing the established melancholy. That melancholy permeates the whole of Votive Fire. While Black Cilice could hardly be accused of ever making something uplifting, this particular album sidesteps the typical bleak claustrophobia with a vision much more inclined to introspection and self-reflection.

The one knock on Votive Fire is that, from a formula standpoint, each song follows roughly the same pattern: repetitive, hypnotic progressions under crystalline blasts evolving into a chunkier, punkier refrain before collapsing back into more anguished strums, all lashed forward by the glass-shattering vocals. With such a scant song selection, it may seem a little silly to try to find highlights. However, this is a headphone purist’s dream album, where the repetition of formula disguises the unique twists genuinely present, rewarding repeated listens in the right environment. “Vows Sworn for Centuries” hides a real gem of a riff in a shifting blast-beat instead of a slowdown, and “Deconstruction of All Realities” carries a main midtempo refrain which is both ritualistic and head-bangable. The production helps with this, somehow managing to mix everything to the bottom instead of to the front and letting the listener search for details articulated in the mire, rather than pushing everything forward and letting the disparate elements compete for attention. Consequently, this is a rare album that is raw af but somehow graceful to the ears, inviting the listener to dive deeper rather than partake in a display of auditory masochism.

Votive Fire manages to give itself an identity apart from previous Black Cilice releases, but where it can rank depends on what you’re looking for. It’s not as aggressive and riff-centric as Esoteric Atavism, not as punishingly raw as Summoning the Night, or as frighteningly atmospheric as Transfixion of Spirits. Instead, by fusing the riff game of the former into the misty comfort of the latter, Votive Fire transcends being a slab of aural abuse by way of offering moments with genuine, wistful beauty. That’s not a label I often get to associate with this genre, but I’m hardly disappointed. If you’re bored by the air-conditioner sound of your average one-man black metal, go light a candle and let the Votive Fire offer you a glimpse into something more, just beyond the veil.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Website: Album Bandcamp
Available Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

Affliction Vector – Contra Hominem Review

By Alekhines Gun

Sometimes you encounter a piece of work that stands as a testament to everything you love in music. Lovers of heavy tones and brutal riffs in all their permutations are constantly chasing that dragon, seeking the brutality to return us to our more joyful youth, or the blackened assaults that turn melted frowns into jubilant smiles. Some bands accomplish this through interesting cross-pollinations of sound, while others adhere to the straight and narrow definitions set by the genre’s torchbearers, who earn their merit through the strength of their songcraft and adherence to proper production. Either way, the quest is the same: create something to make audience and reviewer alike point in awe, stand smitten with horns raised high and tequila on our breath (or apple juice if you’re wholesome like Killjoy) and love in our hearts as we declare “This is good! This is real! This is excellent!” Fortunately for my limited well of superlatives, Contra Hominem is not such an album, and it’s not even close.

Affliction Vector have presented an album whose production is devoid of any real defining features. Somehow, at once lo-fi in mix yet hi-fi in tone, Contra Hominem offers a listen which avoids the abrasive, sharp tones of the brutal assault it pretends to offer, yet blends any melodies or riffs down into the mix until the entire album passes by in a listless haze. The aural equivalent of a glass of water, its sounds are featureless, smoothed over, and bland, with no sound grabbing the listener’s ear or providing any engagement despite its short 28-minute runtime. Faceless blast after faceless blast, so flavorless I’m offended a Faceless band name has already been taken, make attempts to walk in the cleft hoof of Teitanblood, but without the proper sound quality to match the necessary assault. Contra Hominem sounds lazy, meandering, and manages to take a package of high BPM assemblages somehow and make them sound as lethargic as the color scheme “adorning” the art.

But Gun! I hear you cry, what of the riffs? To be sure, this glass of water does contain a few ice cubes to chew on. Unfortunately, two of the biggest and most distinct cubes come in the shape of two interludes, one of which is nothing but the sound of running water. I’m more into album intros and interludes than some of my colleagues, but a sub-half-hour album has no need for interludes, let alone mere sound effects. The album opens with a twangy piano intro in an attempt to be spooky, but the melody is so protracted as to grate more than intimidate. “Lethal” manages to work a memorable moment above the deluge of textureless soundscapes, as does “Nero Gorgo”. The latter is the best song, with creative organ layering and a monster drop of a groove, which causes the ears to perk up in joy at the oasis in the barren desert across the rest of the album.

Performances by the members of Affliction Vector are serviceable in their delivery of mediocrity. Stefano S. handles drums, and the production does allow his kick to come through with meaty oomph, rendering blasts pleasing to the ear. Occasionally, he slows down enough to flirt with industrial tempos, particularly in “Ephemeral Lifeless.” Ans handles all other duties and shows competence in the delivery of solos. There’s a nifty time change in “Animalis Irae”, and he really lets his voice hit fever pitch at “To Lucifer.” But ultimately, these are fleeting moments in a lifeless experience, a few merciful snapshots of technical capability raising their head from the miasma of gray within.

Sorry to say, Contra Hominem is boring. The promo sheet described the album as trying to summon noise, which could bridge the gap between Heaven and Hell, but unfortunately, that’s a pretty big bridge to build. The first step is successfully crossing the gap in the points between my attention span, and in that goal, it has proven to be a cataclysmic failure. It’s boring in how it’s produced. It’s boring in how it’s performed. It’s boring in how it’s composed. Any one of the three are surmountable if the other two are used as strength (just see how the admittedly good production on the last Rivers album has people convinced the music itself is good) but this trifecta of drab and dreary only solidifies this album as memorable in how much I’ve not enjoyed my time with it, despite allowing numerable replays in a chance to win me over.

Rating: 1.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Websites: afflictionvector.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/AnsAV666
Releases Worldwide: June 6th, 2025

#15 #2025 #AfflictionVector #BlackMetal #ContraHominem #IronBoneheadProductions #ItalianMetal #Jun25 #Review #Reviews #RiversOfNihil #Teitanblood #TheFaceless

Tyrannic – Tyrannic Desolation Review

By Mark Z.

No matter how far today’s bands push the envelope, no matter how weird or experimental or innovative modern music becomes, there will always be bands who look around and simply say: “Fuck that, give me Celtic Frost.” Australia’s Tyrannic is one such band. The trio’s founding member, vocalist, and drummer “R.,” has readily admitted that Tom G. Warrior’s brainchild is their biggest influence, though the band’s music isn’t just another carbon copy of Morbid Tales. For the past decade, the group seems to have steadily been gaining attention in the underground due not just to their consistent “cemetery photoshoot” album art, but also their strange combination of black and doom metal. The band seemed to really start turning heads with their second album, 2021’s Mortuus Decadence, which I enjoyed for its sinister atmosphere and epic climaxes. With third album Tyrannic Desolation, the group has largely opted to stick to the same burial grounds as before, but are they able to continue unearthing interesting material?

Yes and no. At first listen, Tyrannic Desolation sounds like the lo-fi extreme metal of Throneum with a bit of Tyrannic’s own special sauce mixed in. Many of these eight songs fill a decent amount of their runtimes with tight, creaky guitar lines that are propelled by clattering, off-kilter drums and vocals that run the gamut from rancid rasps to fervent war shouts to anguished hollers. Perhaps most interesting, however, are the deep operatic vocals that wail just out of the foreground during the doomier segments. The album’s opening duo, “Prophetic Eyes of Glass” and the title track, both slow down after their faster first halves to deliver such operatic singing between eerie, immense, and twisting guitar lines that sound like Candlemass gone black metal.

The approach works well enough at first, but by the time “Impaled before Your Mirror of Fate” hits halfway through the record’s runtime, the “fast first half and doomy second half” songwriting formula begins to lose its footing. Fortunately, the album’s second half adds diversity via ideas that are doomier, gloomier, and weirder. “Dance on Graves Chained to the Labyrinth” is perhaps the most interesting track here,1 as the song creates a strange and ominous mood with its squealing, Mithras-style soloing and bold decision to have the entire band play with no drumming for almost all of the track’s five-and-a-half minute runtime. Later songs like “Incubus Incarnate” and the closer, “Morbid Sanctum,” really drive home the doom, with both songs featuring deathly and morose guitar lines that would sound perfectly fitting at a funeral.

Tyrannic Desolation contains compelling moments, but I can’t say the record as a whole blows me away. While I appreciate how naturally Tyrannic transitions between styles, the album seems content to merely twist and contort itself rather than offer any true hooks or standout riffs. Thus, even while things change in ways that should be compelling, the overall experience ends up just feeling inconsequential. Songs like “Only Death Can Speak My Name” and “Stillbirth in Still Life” are perhaps the least interesting of the bunch, with the former featuring odd, sour notes and the latter being little more than a long, anguished death crawl that doesn’t offer enough to stand out from its brethren. Fortunately, the dry and raw production is a good fit for what the band is going for, with the unpolished guitars and in-your-face sound somehow working together to create a surprisingly strong atmosphere. The drum performance also keeps everything fluid while possessing a natural, unassuming quality that I find endearing.

Tyrannic has a cool vibe, and I always appreciate bands that use a retro sound and aesthetic without regurgitating things we’ve heard a million times before. In this way, the band reminds me of what modern Darkthrone is doing, and Tyrannic’s ultimate level of quality here is about as mixed as Fenriz and company’s albums have been for the last two decades. For those interested in the odder and more foreboding edges of extreme metal, Tyrannic Desolation offers forty-eight minutes that might be worth your while. For me? While I can appreciate the band’s interesting style and ghastly atmosphere, I can’t say for certain I’ll be joining them on their next jaunt through the cemetery.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Website: tyrannic.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: November 22nd, 2024

#25 #2024 #AustralianMetal #BlackMetal #Candlemass #CelticFrost #Darkthrone #DoomMetal #IronBoneheadProductions #Mithras #Nov24 #Review #Reviews #Throneum #Tyrannic #TyrannicDesolation

Invocation – The Archaic Sanctuary (Ritual Body Postures) Review

By Mark Z.

Chile has given us some great records in recent years, with Mayhemic’s Toba and Inanna’s Void of Unending Depths being two notable examples of fantastic albums that have earned a spot in my collection. Thus, when I saw a new Chilean black-death metal band were releasing their debut album via Iron Bonehead Productions—the ever-reliable purveyors of all that is raw and trve—my interest was piqued. With their previous demo and two EPs, Invocation showcased a dark and atmospheric style that earned them comparisons to the musty music of Grave Miasma. Now nine years since their formation, this trio are truly coming into their own with their first proper album, The Archaic Sanctuary (Ritual Body Postures).

When I first listened to Invocation, they sounded quite a bit different than I expected. Whereas Grave Miasma conjure an archaic atmosphere with extended groaning tremolos, Invocation maintain a similar vibe with a more immediate approach. Upon hitting play on opener “Ecstatic Trance,” the onslaught of riffs begins and—for the next 34 minutes—never truly ceases. These riffs gyrate and jab, moving deftly and sometimes violently, at times escalating into layered chords or suggestions of emotive melody, but never acting without purpose. The album has a restlessness about it, and that feeling is only furthered by the drumming. Contrary to what one might expect, the tempos never approach anything remotely doomy, instead shifting fluidly between blast beats and confident mid-paced rhythms. Sometimes these rhythms are even the highlights themselves, as with the snappy beat that helps make “Metamorphosis” one of the catchiest tracks on the record.

Given that these eight tracks average four minutes, the sheer quantity of riffs here could have easily made this album a mess. Instead, the band’s compositional maturity helps these songs stay focused and captivating. Each track progresses naturally and fluidly from one great moment to the next, giving each riff its time in the light yet rarely lingering on one idea for too long. Invocation have a brevity not often embraced by their peers, with many of these songs feeling like eight-minute epics that were trimmed tighter and tighter without ever losing their inherent sense of mystery. Yet while the band love crafting nooks and crannies within these songs, the tracks often return to a core idea, keeping them anchored and helping them stand on their own. Penultimate track “Venus of Laussel,” for instance, stands out with a big and terrific main riff that sounds like temple walls being forcefully rearranged by some immense subterranean creature.

Other aspects of the band’s sound are equally notable. Guitarist “Sense of Premonition” also serves as the band’s vocalist, and he delivers a manic and guttural holler that sounds like he’s striving as hard as possible to keep his inner madman under control. The approach is a perfect fit for the band’s lyrical themes, which center on “ancestral techniques of self-hypnosis and possession.” Yet ultimately, the guitars and drumming are the real standouts here. From the wailing grandeur of “Opium Tebiacum (Somniferum)” to the ascending tremolos of closer “Hypnosis” to the more measured approach of “The Serpent of Faardal,” Sense of Premonition consistently delivers one great idea after another, skillfully navigating his fretboard as the guitars contort in ever-interesting ways. Drummer “Sense of Clairaudience” likewise feels both tight and utterly natural with his smooth and dynamic performance. The production is also fantastic. Everything has plenty of space to breathe, and yet the riffs still hit hard enough to leave a mark.

Simply put, The Archaic Sanctuary is a triumph. From the compositions to the performances to the atmosphere, this is the rare album that excels in almost every way. The band’s knack for combining a musty ambiance with restless riffing reminds me of Throneum or Mystifier, yet Invocation just feel a notch above both them and almost everything else in the style. Here, the riffs are stronger, the songs are more focused, and the overall effect is simply captivating. As a result, The Archaic Sanctuary is a record I’d heartily recommend to any fan of extreme metal, regardless of how often you tread the types of shadowy underworlds that this record creates. For me, Invocation is a band to watch, and this is an album I’ll be revisiting for a long time to come.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead Productions
Websites: invocationtemple.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/invocationchile
Releases Worldwide: September 20th, 2024

#2024 #45 #BlackMetal #ChileanMetal #DeathMetal #GraveMiasma #Invocation #IronBoneheadProductions #Mystifier #Review #Reviews #Sep24 #TheArchaicSanctuaryRitualBodyPostures_ #Throneum

Unaussprechlichen Kulten – Häxan Sabaoth Review

By Thus Spoke

Unaussprechlichen Kulten, the ‘Black Book’ within the Cthulhu mythos that describes the titular “unspeakable cults”1 that worship arcane deities. Here we find an(other) extreme metal band preoccupied with the nightmarish world of Lovecraftian mythology, but Unaussprechlichen Kulten can hardly be called copycats, they’re one of the OG. Formed in 2001, the Chiléan trio already brought five works of increasingly layered, increasingly grandiose and consistently heavy death metal to human ears. Häxan Sabaoth, number six, sees a continuation of this evolution, and an increased emphasis on atmosphere, culminating in what might be their darkest and most delicious outing yet.

It may be their newest, but Häxan Sabaoth feels like UK’s “kvlt”-est album. All but gone are the band’s early Immolation-isms of dense, brutal OSDM chuggery. Picking up where Teufelsbücher left off, the focus has shifted to more complex, layered compositions of half-dissonant, writhing riffing. The band always kept their production on the rawer side, and this is no exception, gritty and unpolished as ever. Yet there’s something about the tone and mix of the guitars in particular that rings at one end with rich echoes and the other with crystal clarity that one might prima facie associate with black metal, and which lends solos a brilliant, wailing insistence (“Cuatro Velas de Cebo Infantil,” “Our Almighty Chthonic Lords”). That, and the integration of spooky synth work, cavernous atmospheres, and sparse spoken word, give the album an overtly, and appropriately, occult vibe. UK also foreground twisting, mournful, wailing, and even beautiful melodies that appear and disappear just as erratically, adding further urgency and dynamism.

Häxan Sabaoth’s strength lies in how satisfyingly its creepiness, musical intrigue, and straightforward gnarliness come together. Grounded in repeating iterations of chiming, climbing riffs (“Lamia Sucuba,” “Back to the Mother Hydra and Father Dagon”), skittering percussion (“Hexennipel,” “Dno Hna Formula”), and synth (“Teufelsbücher”), the music flits between doomy and solemn marches, and frenzied dances. Not only does this make it incredibly dynamic, it makes each of the styles, whether gloomy and creeping or hair-raising and savage, pop with immediacy. Licks of high, shrill guitar strike with electricity that goes right down your spine (“Lamia Sucuba,” “Cuatro…,” “Our Almighty…,” “Teufelsbücher”). Bass plucks stalk with increased ominousness, (“Lamia Sucuba,” “Hexennippel”) in brief breaths filled with whispers or strokes of cymbal, before, with a whoosh of synths (“Teufelsbücher”) or a tumble of drums (“Our Almighty…,” “Dno Hna Formula”) the music moves on into circular tempos or another sharp, wailing solo. Tension and dread are thus built up effectively, and released in a flourish.

In this way, UK succeed in making music that could be very inaccessible quite accessible. Due to the fluctuating energies of the songs, that nonetheless return to key refrains, and variations of them, each is engaging, and the whole album slips by without you noticing. Plus, some of those guitar solos are just lovely, in a very evil kind of way (“Cuatro…,” “Our Almighty…,” “Back to…”); you can always rely on some slick, nasty riffing to get you, and the album, moving. When UK do dial it down and turn up the atmosphere, you get more of a sense that they’re experimenting, although they do pull it off brilliantly in the haunting chasms of plucked refrains and organ synth that open on final track “Teufelsbücher.” Speaking of synth, however, as spooky as it can be, starting every track with synth and spoken-word gets a bit tired. It’s not too egregious, though, given the strength the remainder of the songs possess.

With its creepy atmosphere, gnarly drum and guitarwork, and more overt melodicism, Häxan Saboath begs for repeat listens very easily achieved. It’s nasty, it’s exhilarating, and it’s got bags of personality. UK’s evolution has reached an exciting new phase wielding some of the best aspects of death and black metal with a fresh flair. It’s possible Häxan Sabaoth is their best album yet.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Iron Bonehead
Websites: ukulten.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/ukulten
Releases Worldwide: February 2nd, 2024

#2024 #35 #BlackMetal #ChileanMetal #DeathMetal #Feb24 #HäxanSabaoth #IronBoneheadProductions #Review #Reviews #UnaussprechlichenKulten