Whirling Dervish Black Occult Rock: The Spellbinding Chaos of Scimitarium I

HAIL HEAVY METAL MANIACS!

Have you ever craved an album dripping with dark, eerie, and atmospheric heavy metal, laced with blackened intensity and haunting female vocals? Then look no further—Scimitar’s Scimitarium I is exactly what you need. The Danish underground has spawned something truly sinister, and if the past few weeks are any indication, this album is already making serious waves. From metal forums to Discord channels, Scimitarium I has been the name on everyone’s lips. But what makes this band stand out from the rest? Before we dive into the music, let’s take a quick crash course on who Scimitar actually is.

Who is Scimitar, and Why Should You Care?

Formed in 2024, Scimitar brings together veterans of Copenhagen’s underground metal scene, featuring members of Slaegt (Olle Bergholz, Anders M. Jørgensen, Adam Ccsquele), Endless Glory (Johan L. Ekstrand), and Schaam Larein (Schaam Larein). Scimitar's lineup isn't a mystery, but the exact instrumental roles remain uncertain—except for Shaam Larein, who commands the vocals with an unmistakable presence. Musically, the band melds black metal, post-punk, and occult rock, forging a dark and intoxicating sound with a sharp heavy metal edge.

Aesthetics and the Allure of the Unknown

Before we even hit play, the album’s visual presence demands attention. Designed by Jack Sabbat, Scimitar’s logo is as enigmatic as the music itself—featuring a devilish scimitar slicing through the darkness, the ‘S’ curling like a serpent, perhaps symbolizing the way this album coils around you, tightening its grip with every listen. The rest of the letters bleed into the shadows, resembling melted wax or fresh wounds—whether it’s a ritualistic omen or a tribute to the album’s unrelenting sonic assault is left to the imagination. And that’s the beauty of it—just like the music, the cover doesn’t dictate; it invites you to lose yourself in its mystery.

A Descent into Scimitarium I

From the very first moments, Scimitarium I casts a wicked spell. A brooding, serpentine instrumental, it slithers through the shadows, wrapping its coils tighter with each passing second. Layer by layer, the tension builds—a descent into madness, a march toward the infernal gates. The repetition at the climax isn’t just a musical motif; it’s a warning. The storm is coming. And when it hits, there's no turning back.

What follows is an unrelenting assault, where melody and malice intertwine in a whirlwind of razor-sharp riffs and haunting vocal incantations. The sheer weight of the guitars clashes like two opposing forces, dueling yet synchronizing in a twisted harmony. It’s chaos meticulously orchestrated, each note a dagger, each rhythm a war cry. The atmosphere is thick with a spectral presence, conjured through eerie vocal layering and unholy aggression. The drumming is merciless, shifting from controlled precision to all-out fury, while the bass snarls beneath the surface like a lurking beast.

This is not just an album—it’s a fever dream set to sound. Moments of eerie calm creep in, lulling you into false security before another violent upheaval. The journey is relentless, a nightmarish ride through sonic torment and spectral beauty alike. Scimitarium I doesn’t just play—it devours.

The Verdict

It’s no surprise Scimitarium I has been the talk of the month. It’s dark, it’s captivating, it’s flawlessly executed. It grips you from the first note and refuses to let go. This is the kind of album that demands to be experienced live, and I can only hope they bring their occult ritual to Germany soon.

As always—support the underground. Support the bands that bring something fresh to the scene. Buy the album, grab a ticket, wear the damn merch.

🔥 Grab the digital album here: Bandcamp
🔥 Vinyl available here: Crypt of the Wizard