Dominion VIII is Swedish death metal like it’s meant to be heard. Extremely low-strummed strings played by dark minds with coagulated blood and black filth beneath their fingernails. Through a fuzzy porridge of stink, the grated growls of a creature by the name of Ola Lindgren informs us of a world in darkness that’s stained by hate and dark signs. Woe upon thee, mortal. Pleasure upon thee, devout follower of the raw and joyless hellride of Grave in the craftful manner as purveyed since the late 1980s.

Fancy melodies? Slick twin guitar riffing? Sensitive cleans? Look elsewhere, buddy!

What do we find? A monolith of disgust packed with heavy grooves smothered in the smell of stale sweat of a headsman’s armpit.

Since Grave exhumed themselves in 1988, Ola Lindgren has always been the main man for growls, and on this eighth album, he does what everyone who knows the band knows he does best.

Dominion VIII has an unmistakable sound sometimes reminicent of Nihilist and Left Hand Path-era Entombed (just listen to a track like "Fallen (Angel Son).") In fact, the song "Annihilated God" appears to be a re-recorded song from Grave’s Sick Disgust Eternal demo from 1988. Variation isn’t really needed, since death metal of this calibre doesn’t require a progressive approach. Well, allright, one little surprise comes with the intro of the title track, which features a sinister melody on a guitar that’s devoid of distortion and fuzz. But after 45 seconds, it’s all done and over with what some may call "room to breathe" and the old violence comes crushing down on you again. For a final time, and longer and darker than anywhere else on this album.

If you have never have heard anything else of Grave, then Dominion VIII is by all means a fine place to get acquainted with these Swedish brutes. But be warned, it might feel like they’re giving you a right slapping in the face, asking you where the fuck you’ve been over the past 15 years. "Been listening to Dissection instead of us, huh? Well, suck on this!"

And by "this" one could say it’s a very nostalgic approach that defies any compromises or wishes to blend other metal styles into their idiom. It’s also a slap in the face of anyone who thinks that the voice of a veteran gets less brutal with age. Ola Lindgren’s growl is like a jagged edged blade from an axe that imposes awe and composes carnage. He also masterminded this decidely murky and very dirty production with mixing assistance from Peter Othberg. This cooperation led to a sound so dense and heavy that one would nearly forget it’s just three musicians playing. It’s possible to listen to Dominion 3-4 times in a row and still thoroughly enjoy the formula. Never change a winning tune, they say. (8/10)