Kanibal Hymn has a long and eventful history, so what you'll read here is just a summary. From 2003 to 2005 there was a project known as Terrorgoat that played blackened noise and released about 20 different records. Terrorgoat changed its name to Kaniba in 2005 when its style changed closer to ritualistic dark ambient, and around ten releases were made under this name. As a phase three, Kaniba morphed into an entity known as Kanibal Hymn whose style could be described as industrial noise, death industrial and noisy dark ambient - three terms that more or less describe this album, too. "Corpse Dweller," the sixth release of Kanibal Hymn, was recorded in 2009 and released now in 2012 as a CD in a crude DIY paper-slipcase with a small info-leaflet. This is Kanibal Hymn's first professionally pressed CD, and the first record from any of its incarnated forms that I've come to hear.
The info-slip gives the album an alternative title: "A hymn to the Shapeless Ones who lurk on the treshold to the Beyond." It's a clear Lovecraftian reference, but also reveals something of the album's dark and slightly mystical feel of the unknown, and the presence of death - and the undead.
Musically speaking, the sole song varies from quiet, minimalistic, black and almost silent noise-ambient to bursts of broken metallic distortion that seems to have been slightly manipulated and both sharpened and softened digitally. There is a lot of edge in the noise both in the eeriely flowing parts and the suddenly bursting parts of loud and distorted metal-scrap. The thirty-five minutes slowly travel between these ends, combines them, and takes breathing pauses only to return with a vengeance. It isn't aggressive by its nature, it's closer to passive actually, but it breathes such energy that you know to stay on your toes and take it seriously.
The visual side is just splendid. It's crude, bleak and minimalistic so it won't give too much visual aid, and thus keeps from flattening the listening experience. Instead, it provides just enough of mystical feel for the album to have a backing spine for the listener to base and build his/her listening experience on. It's constructed with a good sense of style and an understanding of the album's concept. No complaints.
If you're into noisy darkness, you really can't go wrong with this album. Its one-track nature and the amount of digitally enhanced (or perhaps digitally recorded, I'm not sure. either way, the distortion seems to have a digital edge) sharp noise eats away a bit of it's density and detail, thus affecting its relistenability-value, but on the other hand the sharp and cold sound is ominous. This album is not for repeated listening, but more for moments you want to be devoured by cold and emotion-dead darkness and merciless sharp noise. Otherwise the singular track of partially very repetition-reliant noise might start to feel dull.
I would've wanted more originality and detail from this album, but on the other hand the cold and empty darkness truly does suit the concept. It seems I'll have to look into some other of Kanibal Hymn's works for some of spiritual devastation.