Rififi Ston Epitafio (An Oral History of Extinction)

Some of us grew up and nourished with the sound of the razor blade guitars, blast beats and corpse paint. With the passing of time all these Norwegian black metal heroes became exotic memories in our hearts, statues of freedom and extremity from our adolescent years. Now these figures grew older & grotesque, started using synthesizers, MIDI controllers, MaxMSP patches, tourist visas, sunscreen, kombucha cocktails, washed their corpse painted faces and chilled in their brand new crocs, underneath some air conditioning unit in a far away southern land, in their newly purchased apartments (in really good prices too!), somewhere in the Mediterranean graveyard.