On the heels of a run of fantastic releases on labels like Deathbed Tapes, Annihilvs Power Electronix, Phage, and Dunkelheit Produktionen, Mors Vincit Omnia is a new celebration of the all-conquering totality of death from the faceless Dodssang Tempel. Constantly experimenting with the use of sound to invoke various combinations of visceral and / or spiritual revelation, every single Dodssang Tempel release I've heard is its own unique beast. And this one is no different. Compared to the vicious depravity of releases like P.E.T. or the clinical Slaughter Productions-esque drones and cruel insectile symphony of Spiritual intervention, the six-song Mors Vincit Omnia finds this US-based necro electronics entity in a slightly more contemplative mood. At least, in part. Dodssang Tempel still weilds a heavy hand with the skull-flattening distortion and speaker-destroying noise. No doubt about that.

But there’s certainly something different with the overall tone of Omnia's torrent of imperial electronics and vast oceanic distortion. Like a deep exploration of celestial chaos, turned inward towards the universal consciousness. The tracks often begins with a haunting, elegiac swirl of cosmic synthesizer, spilling into repetitious fuzz-drenched figures of Berlin School-influenced drift that circle endlessly. Moody, somewhat murky melodies drawing from the classic Teutonic space music tradition. But in short order, the album's synths are promptly drowned in catastrophic devouring floods of igneous distortion. The eerie mesmeric melodies uncoil endlessly, looping cloud-forms of majestic malevolence buried under craggy, bleak spires of pitiless static. The merge of melody and distortion takes shape as harsh noise smeared with meditative remnants from the darkest corners of the Klaus Schulze / Tangerine Dream / Ash Ra Tempel ouvré. But at other points, Omnia disappears completely into consuming maelstroms of that caustic noise, suffocating you underneath avalanches of heavy, textured, blown-out roar, with blackened snarling vocals writhing in the mix , a spiteful presence stalking the inferno. Like an atomic remnant shadow of black metal cast like a stain against the surface of the monolithic static.

The album is at its greatest heights when these elements totally converge, transforming into a scalding, orchestral immensity when it flows into the final chapter of Omina It's fucking magnificent. Kosmische majesty coursing like a river of molten melody through a mega-dense ocean of black static. As crushing and corrosive as Dodssang Tempel's noise is, there's a sense of composition through the whole album. Each piece of Mors Vincit Omnia feels structured and deliberate. An almost ceremonial quality to it. A colossus of brutal blackened noise, wall-style distortion trance, and etheric empyreal synth. Dreams obliterated in the totality of death and dissolution. Emerging from a similar field of forbidding electronics as the likes of Demonologists, the more macabre Prurient material, Mors Sonat, and Theologian at its most destructive and heart-wrenching.

Oh, and for the record, this one goes down quite nicely with illicit chems and hypnagogic dreams of atomic diffusion.

The cassette edition of Mors Vincit Omnia features the complete six-track album. The CD and digital releases include two additional bonus tracks, "SALME III" and "SLAKLE III"; these bonus tracks are also available via the album download code provided with the cassette.