Review by Alex Grindor on April 25, 2025.

Have you ever read about female praying mantis? In case you haven't, they are known for engaging in what men of science describe as "sexual cannibalism", where the female (obviously) decapitates and devours her mating partner during or after copulation. Studies suggest that they may engage in this particular cannibalistic behavior so that the female has access to nutrients and thus, increased egg production. While not all males are killed by their partners, very rarely those that fight back survive this mating ritual.

Why would I bother with this out-of-nowhere explanation in an album review? Simple; imagine that you are the male mantis, and the female mantis is an eldritch abomination with the speech pattern of a child. And instead of killing you herself, she will offer you post-coitus to a life-consuming flesh-made entity. That is Kōbi No Gishiki, Ukakuja's latest album and a jarring experience that, like its predecessor, demands your unfaltering attention for it to be enjoyed as best as possible. Once again, this amalgamation of artists from various projects, all under the flag of Centipede Abyss, have reunited to spawn a new sonic maelstrom of jarring discordance that leaves barely any room to breathe in its composition.

Every instrument is chaotic on its own, but together, they are an abrasive maelstrom that never stops. While the sound is raw, it still retains enough clarity for all of them to shine through, even if they choose to go in opposite directions at times. All of this coupled with atmospheric synths soaked in reverb that elevates their work, while creating this "cosmic void" sensation throughout the whole record, as it was in their debut. There are, however, some moments across this record that resemble a regular, cohesive song, only for it to go down the drain mere moments after. It is something that rarely happens but those moments will take you completely by surprise. This constant twisting and clashing of elements refuses to budge, making Ukakuja's work one that either interests you from the start, or one that you'll reject completely after a while.

Of course, no work is complete without vocals, and this is Ukakuja's forte. Once again on vocal duties is the great Lori Bravo, whose performance outdoes all she did back in Ōmukade and is on par with everything she has ever done throughout her career. On Ukakuja's debut, Lori was more of a "big guest" on the album, accompanied by a plethora of vocalists from various bands that actually sang lyrics, while Lori's shrieks and howls where interspersed in different tracks, her performance still being a strong point in Ōmukade. On Kōbi No Gishiki though, Lori takes control of the entire vocals duties and it is a dramatic, jarring vocal performance she delivers. Her vocal duties serve as the conduct for the disturbing narrative made in the lyrics; an unending mating ritual by some freak abomination that mates, feeds, kills and repeats. Her sire given to "The Corpse Tree" (a callback to the days of Nuclear Death) and her devouring of her kin to begin the cycle anew, with the album ending as abruptly as it started to represent this looping narrative. Believe me when I say Lori's performance is... uncomfortable at moments.

Yet again, Ukakuja has crafted an uncomfortable experience driven by a horrific narrative, all executed by complete maniacs at what they do and making sure that we feel as uncomfortable and disturbed as the work they are presenting. Kōbi No Gishiki is a trip into unending horrors that refuses to give in to any musical convention, while throwing false hints of possible normalcy that are shattered in mere moments. It is a short (20 minutes) but horrific experience of twisted guitars, shifting basslines, blasting drums and cosmic synths that clash and mesh with no predictable outcome, repeating this cacophony until She is satisfied. And She is never satisfied.

The male mantis can survive the female's mating ritual. No one will survive Ukakuja's Kōbi No Gishiki.

9.1 out of 10