One of Trepaneringsritualen's more renowned early releases, Veil The World originally came out on cassette in a super-small run in 2011, and was later issued by Cold Spring on CD. This is a more recent 2021 vinyl pressing of the release from the same label, this slab of slavering Swedish ritualistic industrial and possessed rot worship presented in a brand new jacket design and pressed on 180 gram "bone white" vinyl, in a limited edition of five hundred copies.

On Veil The World, Trepaneringsritualen delivers my favorite mode of his work, with a series of pounding rhythmic industrial workouts that are immediately infectious and invasive, rattling the listener with steady technoid drumbeats and clanking percussion drenched in filthy murk and overlaid with those trademark harsh, black metal-esque blood-chants, the sound taking on a mesmeric, ecstatic cadence. This is the stuff that envelops a room and creates a mass of swaying bodies, a furious dancefloor-pounding industrial assault drenched in a ritualistic fervor. The title track is one of the prime examples of that sort of stuff, and one of Trepaneringsritualen's most infectious tracks; but the album is also offset by some rather nightmarish drift that appear on tracks like "Cherem" and "Avgrunden", combining evil, blackened ambience and malevolent metallic noises with guttural, inhuman vocalizations and gusts of foul, subterranean dankness.

Taken together, that combination of mesmeric, ritualistic industrial and abrasive, abstract deathscapes is what makes this project so potent. Like the electrified throb that pulsates through the ghastly death-dirge of "Lightbringer", or how "Drunk With Blood" writhes within a kind of blackened power electronics, garbled demonic shrieks stretching out beneath waves of deformed synth noise and sputtering, noxious bass. Other tracks rumble with the slow hypnotic thud of war-drums, while blasts of distorted heaviness thunder across the distance, and bursts of sickening, irradiated electronic drone sweep over vast fields of charred, blackened low-end rumble. Compared to some of the other, more ambient reissues that have come out recently, this stuff is pretty intense. And the whole thing closes with a cover of Death In June's "C’est Un Reve" that fits in perfectly among the rest of the album, transforming the song into a punishing assault of grimy, clanking industrial pummel. Over a decade later, this recording continues to stand as one of the most definitively abject, evil-sounding, and ferociously aggressive releases from Trepaneringsritualen.