Parisian trio’s, Hexekration Rites, first full-length, Misanthropic Path Of Carnal Deliverance, is a feral, tightly wound surge of French black-death that treats extremity as both a language and an obligation. It is also the clearest statement yet of who Hexekration Rites are.

Before diving into the meat grinder, a few coordinates. The record arrived on Godz ov War Productions on 25 April 2025 in multiple formats, and runs a whisker over forty four minutes across nine tracks. The line-up is H.R. Arkyon on bass and lead vocals, C.S. on guitars, and Aryth on drums.

It was recorded at Studio V and Sicarus Prod through 2022 and mixed the following year. The credits list H.R. Arkyon for music and lyrics, and the visual identity, logo and cover, comes from the underground’s patron saint of blasphemous linework, Chris Moyen. Limited vinyl and CD editions exist for collectors. These are small facts, but they matter; they situate the album in a lineage and confirm that Hexekration Rites aren’t dabbling, they are intent.

Setting The Atmosphere

Misanthropic Path Of Carnal Deliverance opens with Ouverture, a short, tension-building prelude that works like a torch being struck in a crypt. It isn’t dramatic for its own sake; it primes the ear for the first proper strike, The Grimoire of Insanity. When that riff lands, the album’s design reveals itself: a dense but readable wall of guitars, drums that shift from relentless strafing to tumbling fills, and a vocal approach that sounds like proclamations delivered from a pulpit of bones.

The production is clear without being antiseptic. Low end has heft. Cymbals sizzle rather than smear. The guitars sit forward, but the bass is not a ghost; it thickens the midrange and adds a grinding undertow that’s essential to the record’s momentum.

Stylistically, Hexekration Rites speak a dialect of black-death that is recognisable yet personal. Fans of the French scene’s psychological severity will hear cousins here, and there’s an obvious kinship with the storm-ridden ferocity of bands like Teitanblood and the ritual menace of Archgoat, but Hexekration Rites favour a songwriting spine over chaos worship.

Even at top speed, the riffs resolve into memorable shapes. Choruses emerge. Motifs recur. You can map the violence. That discipline is the album’s secret weapon: it feels unchained, yet the chains are chosen.

The Sound Breakdown

C.S. writes with the economy of a butcher and the ear of a composer. Many songs pivot on two or three core figures that are re-voiced, inverted or rhythmically re-seated until they burrow under the skin. The Seal of Annihilation is an early standout because of this, its central figure twisting in the mouth like iron. Bestial Rites of Doom is another, where the guitar line moves from scything tremolo to a near-martial stomp that feels like a ritual procession turning violent.

Aryth’s drum performance is worth its own paragraph. He plays inside the songs rather than above them, which means the blasts feel like pressure systems rather than a metronomic obligation. Listen to how Apocalyptic Sermon exhales into a half-time passage that lets the vocals loom, then whips back into strafing runs without losing the pocket. The kit sound is satisfyingly earthy; toms thud rather than click, and the snare has body, which lends the fast material weight and the mid-paced sections menace.

H.R. Arkyon’s voice is the binding element. He doesn’t rely on sheer volume; his phrasing is almost incantatory, syllables bitten short and spat in chiseled units. It keeps the language intelligible even when the band redlines. The bass, too, is active in the mix, not a lead instrument, but a constant glue that locks those guitar stacks to the kick drums.

Song Highlights

The Seal of Annihilation
The first “this is going to be in the set forever” moment. A murderous gallop modulates into a riff that sounds like a guillotine’s hinge, and when the band drop to a slower gear the atmosphere takes on a ceremonial feel. It is an object lesson in how to write heavy without inflating tempo.

Then there’s Apocalyptic Sermon. A title that promises, and a track that delivers. The central theme snakes upward, and the drum accents leave air for the vocal to dominate. There is a clever, nearly triumphant guitar figure late in the track that feels like sunlight hitting ruined stone, a startling mood color on such a hostile canvas.

Revealing the Transcendent Fury is a longer piece and one of the album’s best. The arrangement is patient. Themes rotate. There’s an ominous, almost processional section that acts as a hinge, and when the band surge back it’s not just louder, it’s bigger. This is where Hexekration Rites’ compositional sense becomes plain: they understand rise and release.

Canticle for Primal Absolution is a title with sacred resonance, and the music follows suit. The guitars ring a little more. The harmonic choices open up. It is still poisonous, still armoured, but there’s a bleak beauty in the chord voicings that hints at the “carnal deliverance” promised on the cover. The Last Priest of Damnation is lean and direct, this one works like a knife: simple handle, wicked blade. The verses barge forward, then the chorus drags the tempo into a heavier gait that lets the words land like verdicts.

Production Choices that Serve the Songs

There is always an argument in black/death metal about fidelity. Too clean and the evil evaporates. Too filthy and the riffs become theoretical. Hexekration Rites strike a practical balance. The record was tracked at Studio V and Sicarus Prod, then mixed by Sicarus in 2023. Those decisions matter because they frame how the instruments behave.

Guitars occupy a broad midrange band with enough bite to cut through on small speakers, while still retaining body on a decent system. The kick drum doesn’t slap the way modern metal often does, it thumps; the snare is physical. The mastering avoids the worst sins of loudness wars. You can turn this up and it gets larger rather than harsher.

What makes the production work is that it highlights the band’s dynamic thinking. When Hexekration Rites move from blast to crawl, the soundstage clears; when they stack harmonies, the edges don’t shear. That clarity is crucial to the album’s replay value. It lets your brain track the tension lines that Arkyon writes into the songs, and it lets the drummer’s choices register as arrangement, not just cardio.

The Lyrical Context

With titles that invoke sermons, seals and absolution, Hexekration Rites are leaning into liturgical framing, and the music mirrors it. The mood is ceremonial rather than purely violent. The riffs feel like incantations. The vocal cadence resembles proclamation more than narrative.

You do not need a lyric booklet to grasp the concept: a cycle of sin, revelation and condemnation, with “misanthropic” used not as a pose but as the philosophical posture of the work. It’s a clever way to give a black-death record dramatic architecture without resorting to theatrical interludes or concept-album bloat.

A Debut That Reads Like a Culmination

Hexekration Rites have not walked in from nowhere. Prior releases, the 2018 demo, the 2019 Desekration Manifesto and the 2024 Gathering The Disciples EP, show a steady sharpening. What distinguishes the full-length is the compositional confidence.

The band have learned how to stretch tension across five and six minutes without repeating themselves or padding. They have also learned restraint. The most brutal moments land harder because they are framed by space and structure rather than a flat wall of speed. For a debut album, that’s a rare and encouraging discipline.

Written by: Chort the Crop Infestor

“Hi, I’m Chort I infest crops and listen to Black Metal!”

Hexekration Rites: Misanthropic Path Of Carnal Deliverance - Album Review