{"id":231476,"date":"2026-02-19T21:56:40","date_gmt":"2026-02-19T20:56:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.angrymetalguy.com\/?p=231476"},"modified":"2026-02-19T21:56:40","modified_gmt":"2026-02-19T20:56:40","slug":"misotheist-de-pinte-review","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.angrymetalguy.com\/misotheist-de-pinte-review\/","title":{"rendered":"Misotheist – De Pinte Review"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"Ever shrouded in mystery, the enigmatic collective Misotheist<\/a> <\/strong>emerges from their icy realm to deliver succor to fans of metals black and arcane. De Pinte<\/em>, the band’s fourth release, roughly translates from Norwegian to ‘The Tormented’ or ‘They Tormented,’1<\/a><\/sup> a fitting appellation given the Trondheim troupe’s fondness for tortured topics and twisted themes.2<\/a><\/sup> At their core, Misotheist<\/strong><\/a> takes the oppressive atmosphere of Selbst<\/b><\/a> and merges it with Mayhem<\/strong><\/a>’s pummeling impudence, then strategically adorns that union with subtle melodies and naked emotions that remind me of Decline of the I<\/strong><\/a>. Mostly, though, Misotheist<\/strong><\/a> sounds like Misotheist<\/strong>, and given Doom_et_al<\/strong><\/span>’s brazen glazin’ of their last couple albums, that’s not a bad path to walk. Right?<\/p>\n

As with prior albums, Misotheist <\/strong>continues exploring the band’s sonic landscape within the context they’ve defined for themselves. Second-wave tempests reign supreme, broken up by leaden crawls and punctuated with antagonistic bouts of dissonance and harmony. Fans of the band won’t be surprised at De Pinte<\/em>’s mix, once again donning the lo-fi trappings Misotheist <\/strong>is known for and imbuing the songs with buzz and crunch. With four tracks on De Pinte<\/em> compared to the typical three, Misotheist <\/strong>manages their most accessible album to date by keeping the opening trio trim (for them, anyway) and comprising a tightly written side A. Overall, the refinement on De Pinte<\/em> signals a keen band that understands the path to greater success is one of degrees.<\/p>\n

The first three tracks on De Pinte<\/em> may be Misotheist<\/strong>’s best material yet, spewing counterbalanced discord and melody over varied paces in concise doses. The guitar twangs in “Unanswered Thrice” drop a wistful anchor of melancholy that tugs at the heartstrings over furious riffing and a bludgeoning drum performance, and “Blinded and Revealed” rumbles at an unhinged gait similar to Panzerfaust<\/strong><\/a>, injecting spidery leads over the blackened tumult beneath. It’s “Kjetterdom,” though, that stands out amongst on the A-side of the album, decelerating the momentum to an agonizing plod while the bass plays a pivotal melodic role that offsets serpentine guitar jangles. Throughout, the vocals cut and gut with what sounds like broken glass being ground in the back of someone’s throat, engendering an uncomfortable brutality that works seamlessly with the music. In all, the front half of De Pinte<\/em> is loaded with great moments and potent songwriting, setting the stage for Misotheist<\/strong>’s longest song to date.<\/p>\n

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Though the heights of De Pinte<\/em> surpass its predecessors, Misotheist<\/strong> hits a snag during the album’s last leg. The key to De Pinte<\/em> comes down to tension, and where the front of the album excels here, “De Pinte” doesn’t quite stick the landing. Swirling, hypnotic trems play over rigidly metered bass drum blasts, and odd cymbal splashes jar proceedings out of orbit and into an exciting, dangerous crash course. The musical dynamics expertly weave to and fro, adventurously shifting the song’s velocity over a twenty-minute run that always shocks me with how fast it slips by. Misotheist<\/strong>’s dedication to atmosphere and tension throughout “De Pinte” is magnificent, and it’s baffling when so much time gets spent forging tension to have De Pinte<\/em> just… end. There’s no big release. No catharsis. It might have been easier to look past if Misotheist <\/strong>hadn’t committed the same sin at the end of Vessels by Which the Devil Is Made Flesh<\/em>, too. Despite how great the rest of the album is, the lack of fulfillment leaves me hollow, and the impact is outsized since this is a listener’s final impression.<\/p>\n

Make no mistake, Misotheist<\/strong> brings the goods with De Pinte<\/em>, and any fan of metal should find plenty to like on it. Though I’m disappointed with the lack of a fulfilling climax, I regularly find myself looking for forty minutes to sneak in another listen. Unquestionably great moments permeate the album, and while I’m disappointed with its final, crucial juncture, Misotheist<\/strong>’s latest is a must-listen in a month flush with quality releases. Don’t miss it, or the choice could come back to torment you.<\/p>\n