There is a kind of quiet fatigue that builds up after spending time with depressive black metal. It is a gradual flattening where everything begins to sit at the same emotional level. The guitars blur into a grey wash, the vocals stretch into texture, and the weight that should feel immediate starts to feel distant, like it is happening somewhere just out of reach.

Brutal Fantasies settles neatly into that space between confrontation and depression, and stays there. It moves slowly, almost reluctantly, like something that has already been circling for a while before you arrive. The opening moments of “Violence” feel less like a beginning and more like walking into an ongoing thought. The riff loops with a kind of quiet insistence, not asking for attention, just continuing long enough that it begins to settle into your head, like a memory you have been avoiding. After a while, you stop expecting change and start noticing how it lingers.

This feeling of being deep inside a mundane memory runs through the entire album. The songs feel like different angles of the same internal state, returning to familiar shapes and patterns without fully leaving them behind. The album forces you to confront the mundane. There is a constant feeling of being held in place, of time stretching rather than progressing. The emotional weight comes from that duration, from how long each idea is allowed to sit and repeat.

The Sound

The sound stays grounded in the core elements of the genre of DBSM, but the way it is arranged gives it a particular kind of presence. The guitars carry most of the atmosphere. They are thin, distant, but clear enough to follow. The tremolo picking repeats in long cycles, and those cycles begin to feel less like structure and more like a habit, like something that continues because it is compelled to not stop.

On “Parasites,” the riff holds a steady emotional tone that barely shifts. It feels worn down, almost resigned, as if the energy has already been spent before the song begins. The repetition creates a heaviness that is not tied to volume or speed, but to persistence. It stays in the same place long enough to become suffocating.

“Absolute Hatred” brings a tighter, more compressed feeling. The instruments sit closer together, filling the space so that there is very little room to breathe. The sound feels enclosed, almost boxed in, and that closeness adds a kind of pressure that builds quietly across the track.

“Alienated” and “The Mirror Man” introduce a different texture through their lead guitars. The melodies drift above the rhythm section, slightly detached, carrying a fragile, almost distant quality. There is something human in those lines, something that feels like memory or reflection, but it never fully settles. It hovers just out of reach, adding another layer to the atmosphere without grounding it.

“In My Mind” slows everything down and deepens the weight. The repetition becomes more noticeable here, less like a musical choice and more like a state of being. The riff circles continuously, and the longer it continues, the more it feels like being caught in a thought that will not release you. There is no urgency in the pacing, only a steady presence that becomes heavier with time.

The drums remain steady throughout the album. They do not draw attention to themselves, but they anchor everything in place. The tempos often feel slightly heavy, almost dragging, giving the music a grounded, physical weight. When faster sections appear, they pass quickly, leaving the overall feeling unchanged. The rhythm holds the songs in place rather than pushing them forward.

As the album moves toward “Paralyzed” and “Aftermath,” the sound begins to feel more worn, more fragile. The layers thin out slightly, and the structure feels less rigid. There is a sense of something fading, not disappearing suddenly, but gradually losing its shape.

Lyrical Direction

The writing stays close and direct, focusing on alienation, self perception, and a kind of internal hostility that never fully surfaces or resolves. The words feel immediate, almost unfiltered, as if they are being pulled directly from a thought rather than shaped into something polished.

The way the vocals sit within the music adds to that feeling. They blend into the sound instead of standing apart from it, becoming part of the same texture as the guitars and atmosphere. It creates a sense that the voice is not reaching outward, but turning inward, repeating and reinforcing itself.

On “The Mirror Man,” there is a strong sense of distance from the self, of observing rather than experiencing. The idea of identity feels unstable, shifting, as if it cannot fully hold together. The delivery carries that uncertainty, never fully settling into one emotional state.

“In My Mind” feels even more internal. The vocals move through the track in a way that feels less like communication and more like a stream of thought. Lines overlap with the instrumentation, blending into the repetition and becoming part of it. The effect is disorienting in a quiet way, like trying to follow a thought that keeps circling back on itself.

Across the album, the vocal delivery remains steady, almost restrained. The intensity is present, but it never breaks into something explosive. It holds its position, maintaining a constant emotional pressure that builds through repetition rather than escalation.

Standout Moments

The opening of “Violence,” where the looping structure takes hold without announcement The steady, worn-down tone of “Parasites” that settles into a persistent emotional weight The drifting lead melodies in “Alienated” that add a fragile, distant layer to the sound The slow, heavy repetition in “In My Mind” that stretches the sense of time

The closing stretch where the album gradually thins and fades rather than concluding sharply The Verdict

Brutal Fantasies stays focused on a narrow emotional space and explores it through repetition, texture, and duration. The impact comes from how long the album remains in that space and how deeply it settles there. The feeling does not shift dramatically, and that consistency becomes its defining feature.

It leaves an impression that builds quietly and remains after the music ends, not through sudden moments, but through the accumulation of time spent inside its atmosphere.

Score if I must, 8.7 / 10

It is the kind of music that settles into a single emotional state and stays there long enough for it to take hold and turn into catharsis.

Artwork By: Lubdhak