The esoteric "Chant of the Eastern Lands" is enough to convince new listeners of this fact. A blistering symphonic BM attack (far outstripping early Dimmu Borgir for example) zips by as demonic choirs howl and a woven-tapestry of Eastern folk notes pluck themselves grimly in the gale-force winds. The moody "Touch of Nya" is a brief interlude humming a chord progression of Slavic melody; it isn't long before the classic "From the Pagan Wastelands" explodes from one's speakers with its mix of epic folk strumming and blasting, frost-bitten BM assaults. "Wastelands" is a veritable holocaust of sound, its slamming freakouts and fiery leads being both mystical and violent at the same time. The atmospheric "Hidden in Fog" is one of my top-ten all time favorite BM songs. Everything about it is essential; the hazy, choking riffs, their graceful transitions into delicate, fingerpicked melodies, and of course the fantastic keyboard work. This is plain and simple a must-hear. "Ancient" is an unusual interlude of Baroque-influenced piano keys and not much else---strange, but nothing that makes or breaks the disc. At least it is memorable, right? "Entering the Faustian Soul" melds Slavic stomp to dynamic, mind-spinning DM. For an added bonus, Nergal's blackened shrieks and filthy howls stand in stark contrast to his work now, and the man's deranged laughter is a highlight of the entire album. "Forgotten Cult of Aldaron" is a blasting monster firing out shards of sharp, biting, and blackened ice. Through the chilled guitar tones and grim synth notes there emerges a sense of epic grandeur, the likes of which is soon destroyed entirely by a ripping tornado of dirty blackened thrash. The end result is another killer track, and one well worth checking out. "Wolves Guard My Coffin," meanwhile, is an eviscerating piece of dark, morbid metal, the kind of nocturnal lightning that burns simply due to the immense cold it emanates. Speaking of frozen, "Hell Dwells in Ice" supplies even more chills with a very gothic piano introduction that reveals a somber, dirge-like elegy that Behemoth has never again explored. Fans not familiar with Behemoth's earlier work will thus want to check this out just for the surprise of hearing something so soft and delicate, and the powerful swells of chilling keys will definitely shock many. The keen of crows starts off another classic in "Transylvanian Forest," the likes of which buffets one's ears with sickening riffs and demented howls. The low-fi, hurricane-force bile is both acidic and open-ended, the perfect mix of dirty BM and more organic folk. It closes the disc perfectly and leaves naught but a smoldering crater where the speakers had been.