In this culture of litigious consumers, the staff of MetalReview would like to assist The Axis of Perdition and Code666 Records by providing potential consumers and the public with the following Public Service Announcement:

The following statements are warning signs that a loved one is becoming dangerously effected by Deleted Scenes From the Transition Hospital, the new album from The Axis of Perdition:

1) Upon initial exposure, he is simultaneously enthralled and horrified. (It is not unusual for new listeners to be forced to take measures such as burying the disc in the backyard at night in order to be able to sleep without fear and intrusive thoughts.)

2) Your loved one has developed an unnatural and uncontrollable fear of elevators.

3) He becomes obsessed with the appendages of dismembered mannequins.

4) You catch him cutting out the eyes of people in photographs.

5) After weeks of being wracked with fear and concern, you go into his room at night, only to find that he has dug an underground tunnel that connects to a secret chamber filled with mechanical torture devices.

If you recognize these behaviors, you need to know the following information about Deleted Scenes From the Transition Hospital, and how it works its dark arts on the unassuming minds of metal fans.

The Axis of Perdition is a relatively new entity, having previously released their debut album, The Ichneumon Method, in 2003, and last year’s bulging EP, Physical Illucinations in the Sewer of Xuchilbara, which was originally to be a split with Blut Aus Nord. Like the recent work of Blut Aus Nord, The Axis of Perdition assaults unsuspecting listeners with icy atmospheres of futuristic black metal with industrial overtures, which TAOP use more prominently than their French counterparts. Few bands are able to sculpt and construct such palpable and tangible atmospheres that are at once engrossing and entirely horrific. It’s as if the listener is immersed and transported to an actual different location via some kind of aural virtual reality.

The Ichneumon Method was a nightmarish glimpse of the underbelly of the most vile and base natures of the deviant human condition. Although Deleted Scenes From the Transition Hospital continues that theme, TAOP has evolved its style by eroding human elements into a more coldly mechanical sound. The dialogue samples of confused and terrified people only serves to further the sense that an unearthly entity is victimizing humans with an apathetic cruelty. Both albums leave the listener feeling greatly unsettled and considerably scandalized. “Deleted Scenes I-In the Hallway of Crawling Filth” opens the album with a lengthy intro consisting of ambience and unsettling sound effects, before transitioning into a heavy awakening of riffing and growls. Although DSFTTH is as heavy as you’d like, it is somewhat more varied than The Ichneumon Method. The persistent blast of percussion has been varied this time around, and the album includes more tempo variation in general. The outro of “Pendulum Prey (Second Incarceration)” even contains the odd inclusion of a jazzy piano and guitar interlude, albeit covered with static. Combined with the increased reliance on industrial and ambient methods, TAOP have created a horror movie for your ears that shows evolution from their prior work but still contains their indelible stamp of identity hammered into the music. “The Elevator Beneath the Valve” is three minutes of ambience and sound effects that call to mind a long descent into another world on a freight elevator unlike any you’ve seen. These “ambient” passages are more active than that descriptor usually brings to mind, but on occasion they run too long. “Isolation Cubicle 312” is the most engaging of these.

Now that you have been made aware of the dangers of this cantankerous new album and its damaging effects, there is only one thing you can do to help your loved one afflicted by Deleted Scenes From the Transition Hospital—visit Code666 Records or your local shop and pick up your own copy. This thing is too big to go through alone.