|1. Lovecraft's Death||04:08|
|4. Babel's Gate||02:58|
|5. We, the Gods||03:50|
|6. Sunlight Moonlight||04:09|
|Bonustrack (Japanese Edition)|
|10. Anubis (Orchestral Version)||03:56|
|Total playing time||38:11|
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Comentario @ Nastasia
First of all I must say that every album of Septic Flesh is a masterpiece for me. Even when I listen to some song and know that it isn‘t a best thing they have ever done, every song has invincible power that keeps me from turning it off. For Communion it stands several fold. Apart of the part that I don’t like the song. Lovecraft’s Death is so ominous that after first four minutes of an album you know that the listening is going to be some fucking great experience. The following Anubis is directly asking for a label Epic already after its melodic but still storming beginning. During Seth's “leave your body, leave your body now” you can almost feel an urge to do it and come back in time to the Ancient Egypt and die there. If you could hear this song during dying, I must admit it is really worth it. The only thing that stops me from listening Anubis all over again is a desire for the next, title song Communion. The drama, musical skills, awesome chorals – nothing’s missing there. Demons, angels and poltergeists are interchanged with Babel’s Gate and it’s chaos which however doesn’t affect entireness of the album. During We, the Gods, slightly after a half of an album, when you clear up from the first punch of obsessing darkness you got, you realize that Septic Flesh should really be counted as gods of a metal heaven. Sunlight/Moonlight really appeals as a ray of moonlight in darkness and chaos caused by the previous compositions. Next Persepolis isn’t just "a jewel of a desert" but also a jewel of the whole Septic Flesh creation. The melody raises and as quickly and furiously as it takes off it also calms down to give your mind an opportunity to raise its anticipation. The passage in Greek therefore appeals like a cherry on a top of a cake. Of a devilishly delicious cake. Sangreal and Narcissus are a perfect example of the band’s ability to make musical extremes sublime. Narcissus, which encloses a parade of great songs from a workroom of Greek musical gods, has a pinch of almost unnoticeable mellowness (at least as compared to the rest of an album) which is anything but detrimental. And even though I was expecting some more fluent finish, the statement “I would rather die than you should have me” and deafening silence has its magic as well. This album is therefore another proof that not only Norse mythology can go hand in hand with metal, and honestly, I would rather die than admit I didn’t like it.