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Betrayal
« The Passing »
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1 | Renouncement
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| 2 | The Usurper
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| 3 | Carnival of Madness
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| 4 | Ichabod
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| 5 | Forest of Horrors
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| 6 | Race of Hypocrisy
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| 7 | As I Turned Away
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| 8 | Whispers of Chaos
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| 9 | Strength of the Innocent
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| 10 | Retaliation Strike
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| 11 | Frantic
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| | Total playing time: 45:43 |
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Marcus Colon - guitar
Jeff Lain - bass
Jeff Mason - drums
Chris Ackermann - vocals
Bob McCue - guitar |
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Label: Wonderland Records |
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| Renouncement
[Marcus N. Colon]
insurrection, upheaval to remove, your wicked requisition, from my life.
dissipation, of your rule, reviling your darkness, no longer your fool.
Satan denied, death is denied, deny the lie, all sin must die.
no more vomit does this dog want to eat - hear this -
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Есть всё-таки что-то глубоко болезненное и пылающее тёмным пламенем в христианстве – иначе не пилили бы христиане из Betrayal такой сумрачный и ядовитый трэшняк... А может быть, это очередной засланец в лагерь дьявольской рок-музыки, дабы обратить хотя бы пару заблудших киндеров в веру истинную? Однако, Betrayal рубают для такой искусственной поделки слишком уж честно и слишком уж хорошо. В чём им следует отдать должное, так это в том, что играли они уж слишком трэшевое железо, чтобы их христианское мировозрение можно было воспринимать серьёзно. На первый взгляд, «The Passing» кажется более примитивным, чем «Renaissance by Death», не таким ярким, мрак и злоба давят всё на своём пути, нет больше фанка, нет классических запилов. Но это только так кажется: соло радуют ухо, временами на заднем фоне хлопает слэпом бас-гитара, иногда отдаёт Faith No More, да и джаззовым соло побаловаться не хотите ли? Но акцент поставлен однозначно на железо, иногда риффинг недвусмысленно Slayer-овский (см., к примеру, «Forest of Horrors»), настолько, что вызывает кривую усмешечку: «христианская-то группа, говорите, а?». Господь с ними, конечно, ибо они прекрасно знают, что творят, и творят умеючи! Betrayal выросли ещё в любом плане: в музыкальном, в текстовом. Упрёки в однообразии, ближе к концу начинает утомлять... Есть смальца. А кто без греха, собственно? Если действительно на классном альбоме первым же риффом (да и последним, в общем-то, тоже) не взрываются рамки жанра, классным он быть не перестаёт.
Wow! Господи, я иду к тебе! |
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Примечательный релиз, хорошо характеризующий специфику возмужавшего и обретшего прогрессивное влияние трэша. По манере вокальных партий чувствуются прямые отсылки к довлевшей в недалёком прошлом над вокалистом хард-коровой интерпретации. Ощутима некая развязанность такой манеры, но возможно, что группа таким образом заявила о собственном видении этой стилистики. Гитары плетут, как и положено, витиеватые фразы под упругие ритмы ударника. Примечателен бас, который выбивается на передний план в моменты высокого накала страстей, и вообще он ощутим в каждой фразе. Звучание композиций вызывает некое гнетущее чувство, что, безусловно, идёт на пользу при восприятии общей картины. Радует самобытный подход, при котором в общей ткани музыкального полотна слышны аналогии с элементами блюза. Именно в такие моменты ощущаешь, что межстилевые грани стираются, и перед нами предстаёт материал ценный с позиции общемузыкального характера. Мелодий на альбоме много, но много и истинно трэшевой мобильности в сочетании с уже упоминавшейся мрачной компонентой. Музыканты при создании этой записи явно не задумывались о финансовом аспекте. Всё на своих местах и более того, заметна не приглаженность в некоторых отрезках, напоминающая о нежелании хоть как-то подстраиваться под вкусы масс. Заметный лонгплей, и как уже повелось для 93-го - последний, где звучат у Betrayal компоненты progressive thrash. |
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I renounce your perverted ways, retribution for my pain you'll pay,
for the blood now covers me this day, you're cancelled in my life.
renouncement! I renounce all I've done and said, against my Lord,
now I stand beneath, the cleansing flood of His precious blood.
Satan denied, death is denied, deny the lie, all sin must die.
no more vomit does this dog want to eat.
The Usurper
[Chris Ackerman, Marcus N. Colon]
into drugs, at eleven years of age. town of Northport, Ricky's head all in a rage,
deny authority, drugs worsen everyday, using pot to selling meth, stepped where demons play.
once in a bookshop, wired on "L", one book seemed alive, reaching on the shelf, saw his future,
relaxing in his hands, Ricky's eyes widened, as he saw the title, satanic spells, book of the dead.
now was time, for first incantation, pentagram, cats skull, satanic reputation,
hanging out at midway, possessed and full of hate, offered Christ, spit in His face,
Ricky sealed his fate. out on the streets, and out on his town, here sits the acid king, upon his
paper throne, a line was crossed, Gary stole some meth, "no one steals from the acid king!",
he muttered under his breath.
[1st solo Bob, 2nd solo Marcus]
aztakea woods, the acid kings holds court, he screamed blasphemies, as the knife met Gary's throat, "say you love Satan!", Ricky uttered for reply, "no, I love my mother!", Gary cried as he died.
bragging to his friends, on what he'd done, evil shows true colors, busted murder one.
Satan is no future, usurper is dethroned, hanged himself in a prison cell, this Judas met his end!
Carnival of Madness
[Marcus N. Colon, Jeff Lain]
then they came, a mystery in the night, drawing aching souls near, malevolence... enticing sight!
here they offer, fun and fantasy, fulfilling desires, meeting deepest needs, came to heal the sadness,
it's the carnival of madness.
thunderheads approaching, shrouded shimmering autumn light, as many as received their lies, delusion shaded their sight.
they offered unto us, buried dreams, new life, captivity and madness, was their final price.
[Solo Marcus]
this carnival you see is no mystery, rides of sin will pull you in, this circus of seduction will surely visit you, with promises of sweet pandemonium, don't look to see with curiosity, when they call to you resist and flee, don't listen to what they have to say, for something wicked comes your way.
Ichabod
[Marcus N. Colon]
in God, we trust, do we really mean that?
God, bless America, I think he already has!
this that, this that, I think you need a new excuse, out with the morals, in with a budget plan, I don't think that it's any use.
great is this country's foundation, but there is an absence of responsibility, respond to conviction, you Godless pagan fools, repentance is the answer, in this nation's darkening hour.
rights to dogs, rights to gays, rights to a murderer, and their detestable ways, powerful are sacred cows, of church and state, but what of Jesus Lordship and His place.
a.c.l.u. ha!
you're so sick and lost, lobbyist buying, on the hill, bribes for votes is the cost.
[Solo Bob]
this that, this that, I think you new a new excuse, out with the morals, in with liberal man, I don't think it's any use.
God, help us, that's what we should say, could someone send us, some missionaries, before this country stands at judgment day.
Ichabod, deny that name, the glory has departed.
Forest of Horrors
[Marcus N. Colon]
disposed of, without a trace, the young maidens dismembered cadaver, receives her grave, no stone to mark, where she lay.
to what avail, such a waste, grim empty souls store her life, for satanic haste, a brutal crime, Satan receives his offering (in the forest of horrors).
oh where could, our girl have gone, a father cries in prayer, their desperate hearts, search eagerly, but hope is fading dim.
fabled stories can be told, but who will know of its realities, fabled stories can be told, can we overrule the possibilities.
overwhelming, taunting, torment, stirs a trouble minded man, "how can I not, give the truth, of the things I've done and seen!"
I must tell, I must tell, I must tell...
[Solo Marcus]
his return, to the scene, of many ritual crimes, bringing in, the authorities, to uncover the hideous finds.
but no bodies, what?
no proof?
they find to his dismay, "but the stories, that I've told you, have happened as I say!"
Race of Hypocrisy
[Marcus N. Colon]
society, wages war, on itself, with racial bigotry, who?
subduing who?
whites or blacks, discrimination of the skin, not evaluating ones own acts.
kill floor, the local streets, murdering peace, hatred of another's creed, excuses of ones own rage, force feeding racism, attempting to convince, by accusations toward, those they won't live with.
inner city madness, deadly southern states, everyone closing their borders, to preserve their hypocrite ways.
cross burning ghostly fools, you've grown this seed of hate, spineless tactics to bring to harm, you'll reap equivalent fate, victims of slavery past, assaulting with their blame, for abuse many received, today we're required to pay.
[Jazz Solo Marcus, 2nd Solo Bob]
love is close to extinction, bitterness runs through our veins, the race of hypocrisy, all those who offer pain, Christ the one redeemer, no color in His sight, to offer all the peoples, His harmony instead of spite.
As I Turned Away
[Marcus N. Colon]
raised to know God's word to trust and obey, never thought I'd come to this point of losing my way, but I need a change since life is treating me poor, can't say that I desire to call Jesus my Lord.
an inviting friend smiles with evil in his eyes, he asks,
"do you know the path for the chosen and the wise?" he says,
"all who oppose us deserve to die!" then I turn away with a dare in my eye.
I'll give myself a new lord, satanic doors opened to walk through, no turning back as I deny salvation, as my Bible burned I pledged faithfulness to Satan.
[1st Solo Marcus, 2nd Solo Bob]
descending in my wicked world, death is swallowing me alive.
I share the madness of the Arab's words, the Bible of LaVey brings depression to my day.
Plagued with fear demons call to me, the way to show commitment is suicide you see, visitations haunt me night after night, you can't get out, there's no hope in sight.
But a voice still whispers.
I am here with you, I know your name, I gave my life for you, hell has no claim, take me, save me, true Lord, thank you for forgiving me, you deserve all my love and praise, I'm free to know life eternally.
Whispers of Chaos
[Jeff Lain]
suicide is ripping through my brain, chaos and destruction are haunting me again, a sharpened dagger is clenched within my fist, its razor edge is longing for my wrist, a voice inside, chanting lawlessness to me, seducing promises of true iniquity, a ghastly grin, beginning to emerge, as thoughts of sin and wickedness begin to converge.
the Necronomicon underneath my bed, seeking something for my psycho-sickened head, calling out in the darkness of the hour, evil spirits show me harrowing power, degenerate beings tell me never, never fear, the candle flickers as my end is drawing near, I spit in the face of God who wants to save, as my soul begins to weaken to the whispers form the grave.
whispers...of chaos!
whispers...of chaos!
whispers...of chaos! screams...of doom!
[1st Solo Marcus, 2nd Solo Bob]
a dripping dagger, blood all over the floor, the demons laughing as I gaze down in horror, what have I done?
knowing now that I'm no longer in control, someone has become between myself and my soul, blackened figures surrounding me in my room, mocking me as I face impending doom, I hear them chanting evil in the darkness to me, I cry in desperation out to God to set me free, as the fires of hell itself are licking at my feet, I hear the sirens now, I hope they're coming for me...
Strength of the Innocent
[Marcus N. Colon]
o little ones of old, the story shall be told, of mothers wailing cries, when your lives they stole, infants to death, in slaughtering sprees, fearful ancient rulers, of false idolatry, what harm what threat, to stalk a helpless prey, child to cease their rule, could rise up one day.
Survival, crucial, tomorrow is born today, strength of the innocent, they'll play while knowing pain.
Centuries change, the story remains the same, warped parents care, dysfunctional reigns, child in the home, with a sadistic sense of love, sexual, physical, and mental abuse, from their own flesh, and blood, years of this routine, now a parent himself, the pain of old is rage today, his kids inherit his wealth?
(Solo Bob)
a battle known so well, an unborn's future did tell, roe vs. wade, a nation of choice perhaps, fell? Modern big business, exploitation of the young, filmed to bring pleasure, sick sexuality fun, suffer the children, to come unto me, an invitation of Christ's love, to which His kingdom belongs.
Retaliation Strike
[Marcus N. Colon]
the remnant few who follow, Jesus our King, no sound of retreat, time to rise and besiege.
retaliatory strike! an assault with authority determined by the, work done on the Cross, we invade on warring knees, in Christ's name on high, we follow the cries of victory, of the saints that have gone before, will we falter at defeat? no! we may lose a battle but we're sure to win the war.
retaliatory strike! onwards, onwards, a blood stained cross on our battle flag, forward, soldiers, the sword will pierce the enemy.
[Solo Bob]
retaliatory strike! a forceful kingdom, made of forceful me, in violent travail, hell has been shaken again, we follow the cries of victory, of the saints that have gone before, will we falter at defeat? no! we may lose a battle, be we're sure to win the war.
Frantic
[Marcus N. Colon]
frantic, the journey's begun, fear gripping your mind, nightmare, lurking the hall, awaiting behind every door, evil invitations, in their fallen state, terror lashing its wrath, for your soul destruction.
frantic and fighting, racing to beat, the evil covering the dream, doors are remaining, chances you have, to enter the tortuous trap.
candles light, starting to dim, shadow, of my demon oppressors, frenzy fiendish attack, presence approaching, wicked depravity reigns, hands clenching reach, desperation surrounds me.
[Solo Marcus]
frantic and bleeding, torn from within, seeking the haven beyond, crawling the corridor, faith's led me this far, to survive for the victory to come.
[Solo Bob]
escape, finally I see, crawling the floors long fought, victory, shining ahead, for the way, truth and life, race for my life, salvation conquered the fight, danger, left behind me, lunging for heaven's door, frantic, now I know, how to conquer the race.
for Christ, He stands and waits, for those who race to win.