Album Review: Döda Drömmar – Mylingar


Greets and meats; Aaron here from the most wretched ‘zine fermenting deep in the bowels of the internet, Black Metal Daily. What am I doing here on The Metal Wanderlust, a wonderful site filled with actual well-composed odes to the heaviest of music, you may ask? Well, The Great Mackintosh is a lovely human being and has invited me to lay down some words about an album that’s close to my heart: the spectacular sophomore release from Sweden’s Mylingar, ‘Döda Drömmar‘. It’s nice to crawl out of the basement sometimes.

For the unfamiliar, Mylingar (meaning: “wandering ghosts of unbaptized children”) conjure blackened death of the most disgusting order. After an incredible debut EP in 2016 that left many a gangrene wound they’ve finally returned to chew off all remaining limbs, and fair warning for the ill and infirm: this shit is not for the weak at heart. Their vicious onslaught reaches all new levels of beautiful depravity here; dragging its way through all the rotten offal humanity casts aside, gibbering and groaning necromantic spells in foul, slavering dissonance.

This is the type of death metal that really floats my boat. The violent, claustrophobic kind that just wants to gnaw at your face until teeth scrape on bone. They keep their cards close to their imploded chest cavity in terms of members so I’ve no idea who’s behind this filth, but if you told me they weren’t even human at all I’d likely believe it. Whoever is on the skins absolutely hammers them with the crazed, joint-popping flail of a reanimated corpse while the riffs are possessed of both rabid primal savagery and discordant layers of otherworldly blackened terror that float through the air and seemingly hold the whole thing together with an incomprehensible, evil sorcery (just check out the gruesome atonal dread of ‘Drömmen‘ – fucking hell). And the vox? Ugh. The nameless vocalist puts in my favourite work of the year in a performance that’s less actual vocal intonation and more flinging chunks of rotten throat at you; during the lumbering abomination of ‘Början‘ he even dissolves into fits of coughing and choking before (probably) collapsing into his grave and breathing his last through the accumulated decompositional juices and feculent embalming fluid that fills what remains of his festering lungs. That’s honestly what it sounds like, take a listen for yourself. It’s unbelievable.

They don’t dither about, either; right from the get-go opener ‘Skammen‘ goes straight for the jugular and locks those jaws so tight you can feel gristle tearing. Highlights are really too many to mention and at an economical 39 minutes the whole thing slams into your sternum with maximum impact, leaving you reeling and gasping for more. I can’t pick a bad moment, let alone a dud track.

If I haven’t sold you yet and you’re a fan of the fetid, just push play for fuck’s sake. These gents are up there with Pissgrave et al. as my favourite carnage of the last few minutes, and guess what? Both of their releases are up for name-your-price download on Bandcamp so you’ve got zero excuse; take the plunge on the CD or vinyl from Fallen Empire/Amor Fati Productions too if you truly have great taste in music. Undoubtedly one of my albums of the year. Hails.

Rating: Death metal as it should be fucking played. 5/5 atrophied cadavers.

You can get your rotten digits on this one right here!



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