Lurking deep within the central lobe of your brain lives a dark, enigmatic mass. Locked inside this starless, cerebellous void lies the true nature of mortal flesh, soaked in endless shades of inhumanity, cruelty, and hideousness. This malignancy courses silently through the twisted and vexing network of polynucleotides, a coalescence of mankind and immorality. Like it or not, your flesh is the fabric of evil. Need proof? Look no further than the person next to you. Behind that beauteous smile skalks a creature that, under extremely grievous conditions, would drive a knife through your still beating heart - no questions asked. There is a fine, treacherous line that separates man from beast; the same line that pits brother against brother, citizen against citizen, and mankind against humanity. Like a relentless, virulent enemy, our hatred knows no boundaries - attacking and vanquishing weakness without recourse. If war is hell, then, we are, without doubt, living every monotonous, grinding moment in a literal hell; and, where there is war, there is Marduk. Pulverizing us with their first WW2-themed album since 99's classic Panzer Division Marduk, the Swedes have returned with a dynamically opposing work of art, aptly titled Frontschwein (literally translated to mean "front-swine" or front-pig").

Closing my eyes, I laid the canvass of my brain bare, awaiting the dissonant-yet-subtle strokes to smear its tapestry of somber, war-torn hues into my subconscious. Like the precision guidance of a V-1 bomb, the opening chords of the title track weaved a destructive dance, obliterating every last brain cell upon impact. The reverberations of this pulse-jet-powered paroxysm echoed its carnage into the follow-up track, "The Blond Beast". For those of you schooled in WW2 history, you likely know that this song refers to one Reinhard Heydrich, who was a high-ranking German Nazi official during World War II, and one of the main architects of the Holocaust. Like its horrific namesake, the song marches along to an exceptionally brutal beat, taking the catchy, hypnotic riffing of early Dimmu Borgir and restructuring it into something far more sinister. The album continues in this tradition, revisiting the melody-meets-monstrosity of their twelfth album, Serpent Sermon. The decisive victory of Frontschwein isn't reached until just under halfway, with the track "Wartheland". Like the 503rd Heavy Panzer Battalion that steamrolled its way across Europe, the song is permeated with the nauseating, feculent smell of burnt flesh - an unsubtle reminder that, at our very core, we are war.