The Parents Of Oude Pekela

Album Title: 
As Satan Spawns From The Grave Of A Thousand Infants
Release Date: 
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Review Type: 

Open de hellepoort voor verse zieltjes…

(‘open the gate of hell for some fresh little souls’)

Oude Pekela was the name of a small village in The Netherlands, notoriously known for an act of abuse on young kids as sort of sacrifice for Mister Satan himself, somewhere in the Eighties of last century. Satanic ritual abuse and paedophilic perversion became a main theme for a band that was formed at the very end of last century. Back then, The Parents Of Oude Pekela released some demonstrational stuff, as well as a split with the sweeties from short-lived side-project Goat Anus (yes, even a goat needs an opening to get rid of its excremental creations – great to notice that some people pay attention to those needs), but then all activities were put on hold. Several years later, original member Molester decided to resurrect the band, with a split-EP as result, including another project he did run, being Lanz. Another original member, kindly known as The Blind Abyss Of Uncreation (why not?), did go further under that The Parents Of Oude Pekela moniker.

As Satan Spawns From The Grave Of A Thousand Infants is a compilation with material from older releases and re-recorded stuff from the early years. It starts quite hilarious, with a fantastic introduction, sung in Dutch, being some child’s lullaby from last century. Hehe, fun assured! Butt, sorry, but the deepest penetration, sorry, deepest meaning of this stuffed, sorry, stuff, is not that pissful, sorry, peaceful and sweat, sorry, sweet. You might know it, or maybe you do not (yet), but what this sick-headed human being, called The Blind Abyss Of Uncreation, brings, after the will of Molester to sign over the ugliness to him, is quite painful. And painful means grrrrrr…, as in great, grandiose, grotesque, gruesome, grim, grumpy, grizzly’ish, graceful (eliminate the word that does not fit in this series). Fast and quite primal sonic attacks, spiced with puking screams, hysterical shouts and brutal grunts, do blast the shit out of your behind (or, when being less lucky, out of your sweet, soft, pink behind). Artillery percussion assaults, massive string riffs, grinding thrash-f*cked madness and primitive barbarism are sort of compiled in order to create an aural definition of man’s sickest thoughts and intentions. It’s like some NunSlaughter epic being raped violently by Pungent Stench, or Christ Denied mercilessly decomposed and unscathedly dissected by Massemord. It’s meant to be ironic for sure, this whole assay, and that’s a strength to cope with such nastiness. So raise your chalice filled with infant’s blood, say cheers, and bang your (ugly) head, for here are The Parents Of Oude Pekela. And oh yes, you better hide your children…