When three riff worshipping Sabbath addicts pile on enough reverb to peal the paint off a house and record sounds leading to growls being dropped into my ear, I know the black abyss of my heart is going to swell up like a broken toe. Dresden, Germany’s Cosmic Void have made this heart swell up like a rotting corpse about to pop. The trio of Maik Kusche on guitar, bass, moog, and vocals, Mark Neumann on drums, moog, and vocals, and Cevin Schütz on bass, guitar, and vocals, have been around since 2018 and All is lost in time is their debut EP.
Like traversing a dreamscape The Monolith kicks this beast off. A strained voice beckons every so often peaking through the shadows. Each moment reveals sludge fuzzed out layers upon layers, setting the tone for the rest of this trek into unfamiliar terrain. The kaleidoscope of sound twists and engulfs you, swallowing consciousness up and leaving only a feeling of disorientation and paranoia. It’s a world of sharp corners that’s doesn’t care if you’re ready for the next turn.
Requiem begins quite beautifully. Loaded with twists and weaving almost tinny textures to culminate a harmony. The singing voice pleads hint about a corrupt ruler, until a demon bellows commands of flaming hatred crashing any idea of hope. Desolation becomes everything and I’m typing all this while petting my cat and drinking sleepy time tea.
Part one of All is lost in time has a slide guitar. It feels like traversing a desert on quaaludes and mushrooms, because I make good life decisions. A weird vocal passage ripped from Jacob’s Ladder leaves you filled with such disparity it could make the most nihilist of nihilists say ‘it’s not that bad…there’s got to be a bright side’.
This 30-minute EP… left me salivating for more…
Part two starts like waking out of a dream filled with images your brain vomits to keep you on your toes, only to awake to hands around your throat and missing the visions of nightmares past. Seriously, the notes. The words. The miserable beats sound so desperate near the mid-point, the whaling riffs gasp for air until the vocals begin their all out assault making my hair stand and curl. Demons crawl out of all the chaos and burn their shrieks into the sounds I hear, making me still sleep with a nightlight on at the age of 34.
Each listen is completely different. Each listen is scary in differing ways. Each listen takes my breath away.
This 30-minute EP, which seems like it goes by in a second, left me salivating for more. The whole thing feels like three scientists trapped in a time machine who must sit with their eyes pressed to windows. The gasps and fascination as unknowable horror brings into view sights no brain could possibly begin to process. The final fading drums feel like the shock has finally engulfed everything and sanity falls into absolute nothingness.
Scribed by: Richard Murray