Use as DirectedProlia is a drug used to treat osteoporosis. It's administered by injection, every six months. Where menopausal women might need their Prolia, I need my Incantation. Every six months or so, I need a new Onward to Golgotha. The biggest difference is, the old ladies take Prolia to keep their bones from breaking. I need Incantation for just the opposite.
Ectovoid's Fractured in the Timeless Abyss was just what the doctor ordered. The Alabama band engages in nothing but shameless Incantation worship, and that's just fine by me. When I was hearing another one of these every month, I was OD-ing, so I cut back. But even the mighty Disma could only tide me over for so long.
So we've already established that this is completely unoriginal, but it does a remarkable job of capturing the feel of this ugly, sepulchral style of death that began in the early 90's. The production is extremely analog and live-sounding, though much clearer than its most obvious inspiration. They don't pull any wild, modern tricks. The writing is what they would call a "period piece" if it were a movie, right down to the chromatic solos. They've even captured some of the charm of the time as well--see the sloppy-sounding tempo shift in "Chewing Through the Membranes of Time and Space" or the out-of-place piano outro of "Splintered Phantasm." The only "error" they made was picking a cover that looks like something from Death instead of Incantation. But it's awesome anyway.
The bottom line is that these songs made my head bob in time and my foot tap, probably annoying my cube neighbors. That's the body's natural reaction when hearing it seated at a desk with nose buried in paperwork. If this was on stage, cranked up, vertebrae would shatter.
This is a fine example of Incantation-worship. It doesn't break any ground, but it's not supposed to. It's supposed to break necks. (That's what it's supposed to do. You don't want to know the possible side effects.)
The Verdict: 3.5 out of 5 stars