review by: Roberto Maritnelli

We're thinking about changing the name of this zine from "Maelstrom" to "Maelstrom presents: Leviathan," we've reviewed so many of this project's albums. This is the one-man project's twelfth release in about two years. If you haven't already, please check out our back issues to read the other reviews of this most cult and essential black metal machine.

Luckily the previous album, Intolerance (Eleven), was only a bit of a fluke in its mediocrity relative to Leviathan's other albums. Wrest has got his project not only back on track, but charging ahead with even more dark conviction and separation between songs. The result is Leviathan's best album yet, even better than last year's Seven + Slaveship, which made this writer's top albums of 2001 list.

Howl Mockery at the Cross can effectively be split up into two sides, side fast and side slow. The two sides work perfectly not only separately, but more importantly, as two halves that play off and complement each other. Wrest is blasting more and more, while breaking it up with even more evil bits of slow. Now, he's adding different sound effects to the parts in his songs. Take for example my new favorite Leviathan song, "Lycanthropus Rex." The song starts with a sinister, frantic, buzzing riff. Leviathan is one of the few bands that have ever raised the hair on the back of my neck with their total evil. The song eventually breaks into a hollow yet warm, tunneling riff. Several fantastic parts later, a sound clip of a snarling dog is thrown in to add even more atmosphere.

Along with even further mastery of the four-track recording practice (you won't believe it's true), Leviathan's music is developing more nuances both in terms of construction and melody. It's nothing short of awesome how many different vocal and instrument effects Wrest manages to throw in with only the equipment he possesses in his apartment. "King of Province Glacial" features one of the best new Leviathan guitar tones: as clips of shattering ice and dripping water plays in the background, the tone of undistorted, echoing and celestial guitar (sort of having that same mysticism that some of the music from "Twin Peaks") plays before one of Wrest's signature folky riffs. The song eventually moves into more familiar, heavy and warm buzzing territory.

The crypt vocals have never sounded better, and neither have the quintessential, towering black ambient slow pieces that spice up this album. The evil of Leviathan is only augmented due to how cult it is, and vice versa. This absolutely kills 95 percent of the black metal out there. Stop at nothing to get this.