Obsidian Maw
From Bergen, Norway
Monolithic riffs collapse horizons; percussion hammers bone, vocals rasp like furnace slag—guttural invocations braided with immense melody. Atmosphere shifts between grim procession, furious surge; ritual soundtrack for ruin, reclamation.
Obsidian Maw sparked when four itinerant craftsmen crossed paths amid a power outage at a derelict shipyard; torchlight revealed jagged chords, shared appetite for sonic ruin. Rehearsals unfolded inside rusting hulls, solder traded for riffs; whispered grievances transmuted into seismic ritual that incinerated local underground circuits.