Behemoth – ‘The Shit ov God’ [Album Review]

Behemoth are nothing if not consistent; from early black beginnings to the death metal machinery of the turn of the millennium, the Polish powerhouse has always delivered an uncompromising ideology set to a punishing soundtrack. But it was around 2007, with The Apostasy, that a unique reinvigoration became noticeable. Yes, the fist raised in the face of religion was never lowered, but a more nuanced approach to their particular brand of blasphemy became really noticeable at this point, establishing Behemoth as a brand, more than a band.

Then barely two years later, they dropped Evangelion and listeners (myself included) were forced to reel their jaws back en masse. It seemed, with this slice of blackened death, replete with the considered application third-party views on Thelema, occultism and poetry (such as that of Krzysztof Azarewicz) that Behemoth had brought a nuke to a knife fight. Until, of course, frontman Nergal’s battle with leukemia reforged the band in a crucible of near-death existentialism, resulting in the genre-defying, groundbreaking The Satanist in 2014, effectively rewriting the histories of blackened death and of Behemoth itself.

But sadly, that’s where the upward trajectory stalled: every offering since (including their latest sacrifice on the altar of irreligious musicianship, The Shit ov God) has not quite lived up to the incredibly high standard of The Satanist. I Loved You at Your Darkest, in 2018, for example, felt more like ‘Satanist studio outtakes and B-sides’ than a fully-realized album in its own right. Then, Opvs Contra Natvram in 2022 seemed to suffer from a malaise worse than the pandemic: a roaring, bombastic plea for attention that was mirrored in Nergal’s ongoing efforts to dominate extreme metal’s social media feeds with his many other outlets – vintage tees, yoga, his Barberian barbershop, travel and more. In an attention economy, where reach and engagement metrics outweigh content quality in an ongoing cycle of hedonic obsession with ‘likes,’ this makes sense, but from an extreme metal perspective, it comes across as pandering to an audience that is not actually a dedicated fanbase.

The controversially named album’s title track is emblematic of the record as a whole.

Sadly, this trend towards superficiality has continued with The Shit ov God: confrontational and provocative in its name, but less so in its realisation – and indeed, in its less-than-forty-minutes runtime. Even the provocation – which has become a brand manifestation for Nergal more than an ideological directive – is a performative pastiche of prior offerings. As a result, this latest record, while undeniably well produced and superlatively performed, could just as well be the work of a particularly talented Behemoth cover band. Behemoth have, it seems, entered a realm of hyperreality, where every creative product is merely a simulacrum of what they have done before: a Baudrillardian state where the only stable referent informing new creative artifacts is Behemoth’s own discography. Effectively, The Shit ov God – while one hundred percent Behemoth in its stylistic qualities – is the product of an echo chamber where no fresh input is being heard or assimilated into the creative process. The net result? An imitation, convincing in its reproduction of existing Behemoth qualities, but lacking in the depth required to re-ignite the Polish quartet’s upward trajectory.

“Sowing Salt” and its jarring, cut-and-paste arrangement speaks to an attention economy saturated with short-form content that caters to diminished attention spans.

And it doesn’t end with the music, either: even the associated visuals draw heavily on the tropes of the band’s historical corpus. While “Ov My Herculean Exile” (off Opvs Contra Natvram) hinted at a much larger narrative approach, the majority tend towards a similar colour palette, similar symbols rendered as CGI, similar outfits, similar makeup… If it were not for the music, each video could be part of a longer art film project where the protagonists wear long black skirts over stilts, punctuated by live performance sequences.

Lvciferaeon exemplifies the re-used Behemoth visual brand assets approach.

Taken together, this presents a rather sad state of affairs for Behemoth – admittedly, one that has not stopped me from buying every new record on vinyl as soon as pre-orders begin – but even a poor Behemoth record (I cannot say ‘derivative’ because of the self-referential nature of the music described above) is usually still head and shoulders above the majority of other releases within the extreme metal stable. By way of example, look no further than “O Venvs, Come!,” hidden right at the end of the new album: if a supposed B-side like this cut can be crammed so full of atmosphere, menace and seduction, then what can be expected from the singles? This particular cut is my highlight on the record – deceptively gentle, seductive start, rapidly descending into a punishing maelstrom… and the typically Behemoth lead that has more in common with an exorcism than a musical phrasing? Delicious. And then there’s the sublime choral element in the coda – less orchestrated than those that pepper I Loved You at Your Darkest, but that restraint serves the ambiance so much more effectively. And even if the combative, Promethean stance the band occupy is a little more straightforward, there is still space for intelligence within that position. The ‘shit’ monogram for the album (and the eponymous first single) for example, is a really clever inversion of the classic JHS ‘Christogram’ employed by orthodox Christianity.

From a visual perspective, album opener “The Shadow Elite” does break the mould somewhat in terms of formatting and DIY aesthetic.

In summation, what is missing from The Shit ov God is something that is so deeply experienced in any live Behemoth setting: the passion. Blood, sweat and tears (possibly other bodily secretions, from bile to semen to cerebrospinal fluid, depending on the context) are central to any Behemoth performance – a reciprocal moment between audience and band that can never be adequately translated to a recorded format. Every show, every performance is a unique entity, even as a part of a larger tour gestalt, and that character, while emulated on the more recent albums, is never fully recreated. On stage, Behemoth are at the top of their game and continue to improve with every iteration; it is a pity, then, that the studio recordings – while undeniably excellent – do not demonstrate similar growth.

So, is The Shit ov God good? Yes, indubitably so, but it is not the Behemoth album I would use to attract a new audience. And I can only blame Nergal, Inferno, Orion and Seth for setting their own bar too high a decade ago.

Behemoth, photo by Sylwia Makris and Christian Martin Weiss

The Shit ov God Track Listing

1. The Shadow Elite
2. Sowing Salt
3. The Shit ov God
4. Luciferaeon
5. To Drown the Svn in Wine
6. Nomen Barbarvm
7. O, Venvs, Come!
8. Avgvr (The Dead Vvltvre)

Run Time: 37:38
Release Date: May 9, 2025
Record Label: Nuclear Blast Records