| Reissue of LEVIATHAN’s infamous True Traitor, True Whore, newly remastered from the original mixes and, for the first time, properly mastered for vinyl. This definitive edition presents the album as it was always meant to be heard on wax. The reissue also features striking new artwork by Abomination Hammer and includes the bonus track “Now Nigredo.”
With True Traitor, True Whore, Leviathan’s sole visionary Wrest confronts his most turbulent moment with unwavering honesty. Where earlier efforts like The Tenth Sub Level of Suicide submerged listeners in misanthropic despair and ambient dread, this 2011 release goes further—stripping back the veil between artist and audience to reveal something raw, unsettling, and perversely beautiful.
The album marks a significant shift in approach. Gone is the strictly lo-fi aesthetic and the insular black metal shell. Instead, Wrest expands his sonic arsenal to include eerie clean guitars, layers of reverb-drenched effects, and a wide range of vocal techniques—from ghastly whispers to unhinged spoken word passages—all of which heighten the sense of psychological fragmentation. It's a bold evolution that places True Traitor somewhere between DSBM, blackgaze, and the chaotic fringes of avant-garde metal.
Opener “True Whorror” sets the tone immediately: fractured, dissonant riffs spiral over convulsive drums while ghostly textures swirl beneath the surface. Wrest has always been a master of atmosphere, but here, his rage and grief are so tangible they seem to seep out of the speakers. “Her Circle Is the Noose” and “Shed This Skin” further delve into this haunted space, blending icy minimalism with moments of cathartic aggression. At times, it feels like the album is trying to tear itself apart, mirroring the emotional violence that inspired it.
While not all vocal passages will resonate with every listener—the whispered sections in particular can feel jarring—their unpredictability reinforces the album’s manic tone. Wrest isn't aiming for elegance; he’s documenting a breakdown in real time, and the result is often uncomfortable but rarely disingenuous. In fact, the record’s lack of polish is part of what makes it so convincing. This is not a performance—it’s an exorcism.
Instrumentally, Wrest’s precision remains intact. His drumwork is as nuanced and aggressive as ever, shifting between blast-driven fury and hypnotic tribal rhythms. The guitar work alternates between jagged dissonance and mournful clarity, especially in quieter moments like “Blood Red and True,” where despair seeps through clean arpeggios and cavernous effects.
Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of True Traitor, True Whore is how it balances chaos with structure. For all its emotional volatility, the record never descends into incoherence. Wrest controls the madness—just barely—guiding the listener through his labyrinth of hatred, betrayal, and existential collapse.
This album isn’t for everyone. It’s abrasive, confrontational, and frequently disturbing. But for those willing to engage with it on its own terms, True Traitor, True Whore offers a deeply affecting glimpse into the mind of an artist who refuses to look away from his darkest hour. It's a document of survival—ugly, compelling, and utterly human.
Recommended tracks: “Shed This Skin,” “True Whorror,” “Her Circle Is the Noose”
For fans of: Lurker of Chalice, Xasthur, Deathspell Omega, Bethlehem
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