| On Totschläger (A Saintslayer's Songbook), Abigor once again prove that they’re operating in a sphere uniquely their own. Where many black metal bands reach for grandeur and stumble into excess, Abigor maintain an iron grip on their craft, blending theatricality, violence, and precision into an album that feels both majestic and unhinged. This is a record of many layers—of scorched earth riffing, dramatic vocal interplay, and orchestral flourishes that serve the atmosphere rather than obscure it.
Right from the opening track, Abigor hurl the listener into a turbulent soundscape that is part symphonic overture, part hellfire sermon. The interplay between orchestral instrumentation and black metal ferocity is masterfully handled; it's not a gimmick, but a compositional foundation. Each interlude and instrumental moment acts as a breath before the plunge—a calculated contrast to the often overwhelming intensity of the full-band assaults.
Vocalist Silenius delivers a truly dynamic performance, ranging from anguished howls to near operatic cleans, channeling a kind of ritualistic fervor that elevates the lyrical themes. There's something deeply theatrical in his approach, but it never tips into parody. Whether invoking the ghost of King Diamond or drawing from the manic energy of Shining’s Kvarforth, Silenius maintains his own voice throughout—commanding and tormented in equal measure.
The guitars are equally expressive, shifting between triumphant leads, scathing tremolos, and twisted, dissonant riffs that at times echo Deathspell Omega’s more cerebral side. Yet there's an underlying melodic sensibility at play, making even the most disorienting passages feel intentional and strangely memorable. The track Tartaros Tides, with its almost punk-like momentum, stands out as a rare moment of levity—still aggressive, but undeniably catchy.
Drumming throughout the album is sharp and relentless, but never monotonous. The arrangements are full of tempo shifts, stop-start dynamics, and sudden explosions of violence that keep the listener engaged. When the band locks into a full-on assault, as on the closer Terrorkommando Eligos, it’s a reminder that beneath all the experimentation, this is still a black metal band capable of pure, merciless aggression.
What makes Totschläger truly impressive is how Abigor manage to synthesize their past with their present. Echoes of their early work remain—acoustic passages, martial rhythms, and baroque textures—but they're reframed through a modern, almost cinematic lens. The production is dense but not suffocating; every element has space, and the overall mix balances clarity with rawness.
In a genre often obsessed with orthodoxy or shock value, Abigor continue to forge their own path. Totschläger (A Saintslayer's Songbook) is neither a throwback nor a reinvention—it’s a culmination. Bold, intricate, and seething with intensity, it’s a high point not just in Abigor’s discography, but in contemporary black metal as a whole.
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