Sentient Cultist is the third studio record that consists of 8 tracks, composed in a wide range of genre tradition. It follows up on releases of both A Tale of Woe (2013) and Nuisance (2015) and stands for the effort to fuse metal music with other music genres. Sentient Cultist represents a shift in both music and sound, and lyrically focuses on the topics of self-reflection, life experiences of an individual, mental health, and interpersonal relationships.
released December 13, 2019
Robert Ruman – vocals, guitars, bass guitar
Michal Vlkovic – guitar
Tomas Cvecka – bass guitar
Jakub Filip – drums
Recorded between April 2018 and October 2019 at various places.
Produced by Morna.
Recorded and mixed by Robert Ruman.
Mastered by Steve Kitch (Audiomaster, Devon UK).
Album artwork idea & concept by Jakub Filip.
Graphic design by Jan Ivan (Animal Studio).
All music written and produced by Morna.
All lyrics written by Jakub Filip except Through the Pain I See Others which was written by Robert Ruman.
Hear, hear the ancient voice,
The whisperer from the outer space,
She took the lead,
Now the others act like fools.
Feel the places you’ve never reached,
But the shadow you cannot see, penetrates you.
The pain is real.
The light at the end of the hole, has been shut down,
The void swallowed your body,
Soul has been separated from flesh,
Material presence disappeared with the rise of the rivers of blood.
Run, you could run, you fool,
Now the circle is closed,
Consumed, the mud you consumed lives in you,
And grows, (grows).
When your mind is finally corrupted,
You know the only being to hate is yourself.
Track Name: Let Us Bury This Body
That day I remember,
I was ready to surrender.
From the day I met you,
Honestly, I hate you.
What an unusual time it was –
I was weak 'cause I was a child,
I was innocent and in danger.
What a freaky place it was –
There was fluid dark all around,
Pretending not to be a 'stranger'.
Let us bury this body,
Keep calm, death made him be,
There's no chance for change in him,
Keep calm, he will be free.
This pain is all
I have left of you.
You are like a ghost,
Trying to shake me.
I released my spirit – I can breathe,
But the real You lie underneath.
Salvation lost its meaning,
The body cries, the body hurts,
Further beyond I can imagine.
Track Name: Follow Forty-One Point Two
I felt bleak death,
Sense of consuming desolation,
And the timeless fear far and wide.
To die, I wished to die,
To kneel down under the sky,
I—sorely left to cry—,
Craved for the reason why.
Fooling you all the time,
Ignoring the world all around,
I've hardly turned into human,
I just lived in cynical illusion.
By the stories I've made up,
Life got harder.
Every single breath,
Intensified that insidious disorder.
Would you be my confessor now?
'Cause back in the dark time,
The only answer was to follow
Forty-one point two.
We were all set to go down to the hell.
Track Name: The Therapist
An old lady touched me deep inside,
She came aboard along of me,
To see my bleakness.
I cried, horribly cried,
How on earth could she step aside?
Sequestering myself in therapy,
And lived the life I simply couldn't recognize.
Once she said I am alive,
Twice I heard I will survive!
She's my heart, confessor and pride,
She's with me, always the therapist.
I felt the smell of death,
Upon my word of honor.
Now I'm the ghost, catching my breath,
And still hasn't found out how to die.
Track Name: Silence Doesn’t Exist
Have you ever had the freedom of choice?
Have you ever had the feeling of control?
Since the time we're here,
Denying our nature,
While reaching our limits,
We are being slaves.
Living or dying, it's unclear.
Deprives human spirits,
Thus prepares us the graves.
Cornered in the Cage of flesh,
Never free while fears persist,
Constantly dealing with the clash,
Of silence that doesn't exist.
Calm and peaceful,
Still only carnal creature,
Hearing and feeling,
All alone, always echoing.
Invocating ruined heart and soul,
Being held alfresco, I hear my voice.
Track Name: Biographical Trajectories of Suffering
Men and women go about their lives
Without really knowing why.
Complaining of bad times,
In such a way of creating a lie.
I need my myths if I am
To transcend the fallacies.
I need my narratives if I am
To make progress and feel the tragedies.
We all suffer in our own stories
Where we carry along through the squalor.
We move on a path, away from glories,
Lost in sorrow of suppressed moral
New Zealand technical death outfit Ulcerate have often been praised for their innovative genre approach—but six albums into their discography, there's even greater strength in their consistency. Bandcamp Album of the Day Dec 20, 2016