Review by Dominik on August 29, 2025.

Imha Tarikat — which translates from Turkish roughly as "Sect of Annihilation" or "Brotherhood of Destruction" — has been haunting the black metal landscape for nearly a decade now. Judging by the absolute silence on Metal Archives, they might as well have been playing in a locked basement the whole time. The fact that their profile remains untouched by reviewers is either proof of criminal neglect or evidence that true annihilation begins with being ignored. Either way, that silence deserves to be broken, because the band has been steadily releasing quality albums, and with "Confessing Darkness" they've delivered another convincing work. It's their most aggressive, their most vulnerable, and without much doubt their most memorable and strongest statement so far. Before I come to some specifics, let's do a quick recap of what makes Imha Tarikat stand out in a sea of countless black metal outfits.

Much of what sets the band apart comes down to Kerem Yilmaz, the project's mastermind, who handles guitar, bass, and — most importantly — vocals. His bass lines serve their purpose well, but the guitar work often strays from black metal convention. He threads in peculiar melodies, rather than endless tremolo storms, at times traditional heavy metal riffing, and the occasional solo that feels almost out of place in the best way. What really makes the band stand out, though, is his voice. Yilmaz's vocals don't sound like the usual distant shriek or black metal nagging. His tonality has an underlying hardcore spite that makes every line sound like an order barked at you personally. Sometimes it's drill sergeant or a mad-eyed general who shouts at invisible troops while recording, sometimes the pitch is more of a rabid dog, but it's always unmistakable.

"Confessing Darkness" is an interesting album as it covers a wide emotional range — though, rest assured, these are black metal emotions, not anything you'd find in a Katy Perry chorus. For newcomers, tracks like "Excellent Grief" or "Pitch Black Reflection" are safe entry points. They're among the most accessible here, if "accessible" can apply to music that sounds like your drummer is either possessed, on the verge of getting a cardiac arrest, or just having the worst day of his life. He is driving the songs, while the guitars tear ahead, always ready to weave subtle melodies into the songs, and the vocals convey anger and grief in equal measure. "Pitch Black Reflection" in particular earns its title. However, here reflection means less "quiet self-examination in the darkest corner of your sacrificial lair" and more "screaming obscenities at your own mirror until it cracks".

Still, the album isn't all pure aggression. In some songs we find a kind of inherent vulnerability which surfaces in tracks like "Another Failed Ritual" or "The Day I Died (Reborn Into Flames)". The former begins with a sorrowful guitar motif before the drums erupt into chaos and go berserk, then shifts into riffing that blends black metal's ferocity with a sense of resignation or even helplessness. By the end, a surprising guitar solo lifts the song, while Yilmaz's vocals never let you forget that you signed up for a black ritual gone wrong. "The Day I Died (Reborn Into Flames)" is a deceptive beast and takes longer to reveal its emotional core. On the surface, it's fast as fuck and punishing, but its hypnotic rhythm and repetition pulls you in until you realize you've been trapped inside its realm of flames all along.

Also, the rest of the album can convince and balances between these "poles". The title track, at over seven minutes, avoids bloating by morphing constantly. The first minute – for the lack of a better description - starts almost like a bizarre jazz interpretation of black metal, before tumbling into another maelstrom of aggression, then veering back into passages that mid-song sound as if the band has lost their minds — and possibly the song structure — halfway through. "Horns In The Smoke" is another highlight. It thrives on the contrast between delicate melodic touches in the guitars and the drummer's relentless drive to reduce his kit to splinters.

In a genre that often suffocates under its own limits, Imha Tarikat manages to bend black metal without breaking it and to stay fresh without betraying the genre's essence. No gimmicks, no avant-garde detours, just a willingness to inject some vulnerability and oddity into the familiar blast-and-shriek formula. "Confessing Darkness" is proof that the sect of annihilation still has plenty to destroy, and the release has enough personality to avoid becoming another anonymous corpse in the genre's mass grave.

Rating: 8.4 out of 10, because that's what you sign up for, when you join a sect of destruction. The missing 16 points were willingly annihilated.