There are few things more genuinely terrifying than the vastness of space. It is arguably the single most hostile environment imaginable, incomprehensibly massive and constantly expanding (because apparently literal infinity just isn’t big enough), and that’s before you even get into the possibilities of what may or may not be out there lurking in the void. Are we alone in the universe? If not, what other life forms are there? Where are they? Would they be affable or sympathetic to humanity if our paths were ever to cross? Would we be to them? And if we truly are alone, would we as a species even be able to cope with that level of existential dread?
It’s a concept that lends itself very well to death metal, one that a multitude of bands have already taken up and ran with, but few have embodied it so completely nor wielded it so handily as the long-running Madrid-based tech death outfit Wormed. These guys have been bringing us tales of unspeakable horrors from beyond the stars and distortions in the very fabric of reality for over two decades now, told through the lens of highly atmospheric and often dizzyingly technical brutality, and their 2016 album Krighsu marked yet another turning point by introducing a continuing narrative. Their music has always been highly thematic, but now there was an actual story to go with it, a tale of the titular protagonist and his epic struggles to avert humanity’s impending annihilation at the hands of a highly advanced malicious entity bent on replacing all organic life in the universe with technology.
Much like Wormed’s music, the narrative is extremely complex and often difficult to follow along with, but damn if it isn’t intriguing all the same. Omegon, the band’s newest offering, moves the battlefield from the actual vacuum of outer space and into a more metaphysical realm; in this reality, artificial intelligence and complex, ever-changing algorithms have enslaved humanity and held them hostage in a sort of digital hellscape (ooh, topical), all while Krighsu frantically travels between realities in search of an unknown cosmic energy source called, well, Omegon. This power, which the lyrics for the title track describe as “the ultimate form of technological alchemy” and “the code of creation”, will grant its possessor supreme power over the essence of spacetime itself, and thus allow mankind to finally rid itself of this amorphous nanotechnological nemesis. But, as with any good story, it is a race against time, and Krighsu is of course not the only one searching for this ultimate power.
Now, that’s a badass story, one that I would happily read the graphic novel or watch the movie for, but that’s also the extent of what I was able to gather. Much like a FromSoft game, a lot of it is extremely convoluted and obscure, with the finer details being easy to miss with everything else going on around it, plus you’d have to do a deep dive on the lyrics to even be aware of it in the first place since the vocals are just a stream of unintelligible squeals and pseudo-gutturals. Not that they sound bad or anything, but there is little to nothing in the way of enunciation. At the end of the day, the experience itself is much more important than trying to decode all of the ins and outs of the narrative. The concept may be fascinating, but we’re not here to be told a story, we’re here to listen to some brutal-ass death metal.
Musically, Omegon is an absolute whirlwind, as spastic and unpredictable as it is atmospheric. It’s certainly comparable to similar bands like Defeated Sanity or Malignancy, though obviously much more thematic and theatrical. In my opinion, the drums are by far the highlight of the album, with drummer extraordinaire V-Kazar (by day known as Gabriel Valcázar) giving a stunning, supremely dexterous performance sure to leave even the most jaded music nerd’s jaw hanging open. There are lots of minute but extremely satisfying details thrown in for good measure, like an unexpected little flourish on the hi-hat here and there, or parts where you can hear vocalist Phlegeton (aka Jose Luis Rey Sanchez) take a quick, sharp inhalation right before the band comes out of an extended pause. This album is made up of thousands of tiny little moments like this all coming together like pieces of a puzzle to create one complete and grandiose picture. It can be exhausting to try to keep up with, but the end result is undeniable.
Then again, that’s not to say that there aren’t plenty of moments that make you want to bang your head and jump in the pit as well. Wormed are very much a technical death metal band by nature, but they still know how to get nice and groovy when the occasion calls for it. There are a slew of creatively written slams and breakdowns scattered throughout all of the songs, but there is one song in particular that, while still quite jazzy and a little unorthodox in structure, focuses almost exclusively on groove from beginning to end, and that is the sixth track “Virtual Teratogenesis”. That one is easily the most fun to listen to, seamlessly blending catchiness, technicality, and atmosphere in a way that lots of bands strive for but few ever manage to accomplish in any sort of meaningful way. If you’re going to listen to anything from this album, make sure it’s this song. The whole thing is great, but that one is the shining jewel in the crown.
There’s just something about space and its boundless existential horror that compliments technical death metal so very well; it’s not so much what we know about it, it’s what we don’t know, which is infinitely worse. There’s a reason it’s become something of a trope at this point. It’s a dark and beautiful canvas with limitless possibilities, something the human mind has not and likely will not ever be able to fully grasp, and if that doesn’t scare the absolute shit out of you, then you’re not paying close enough attention. We may never be able to fully comprehend the true scope of the universe, but Wormed have given us something a little closer to home which uses that formidable backdrop to tell a great story while also pushing the limits of their own stellar musicianship. We may be hurtling through the cold, black, fathomless void towards imminent entropy and utter pointlessness in the grand cosmic scheme of things, but hey, at least it’s got a killer soundtrack.
Omegon drops this Friday, July 5th via Season of Mist Records. Pre-order your copy and prepare for assimilation here