Sonic Hexes Against the Wetiko Machine: Hexecutioner’s Ascension Rock

Let’s get one thing straight before you drop the needle on Ascension Rock: this is not background music for folding your laundry or sipping an iced oat-milk latte while scrolling through algorithmic slop. This is weaponized low-end sorcery.

With their latest offering, Hexecutioner has bypassed every polite pleasantry of modern heavy music and locked onto a laser-focused frequency of pure, unadulterated, face-melting sludge. From the very first down-tuned chord, the air in the room thickens like sulfur fog rolling off a volcanic crater. There is zero fat on these bones—no trendy post-rock detours, no glossy radio-friendly polish, no winking irony. Just tectonic riffs that grind like continental plates colliding in slow motion, dragging your astral body straight down into the magma before launching your third eye into low-Earth orbit.

What makes Ascension Rock a genuine triumph of the dark arts, however, isn’t just the sheer, skull-rattling weight of the fuzz—it’s the righteous, occult fury pulsing at its core.

Listening to this record feels like standing in a damp, midnight clearing watching a deeply powerful witch weave an intricate, devastating hex against the rot of late-stage capitalist selfishness. Every blown-out bass rumble and every cavern-echoing vocal shriek lands like a ceremonial dagger pinned straight into the heart of corporate greed, landlord parasitism, and the soul-crushing machinery of the billionaire death cult. It’s righteous indignation transmuted into pure, hypnotic vibration. Instead of lecturing you with clunky political slogans, Hexecutioner summons an elemental storm of distortion that physically vibrates the parasite out of your nervous system.

The production captures that exact sweet spot where raw, basement-ritual grit meets cavernous, psychedelic dread. The drums hit with the merciless cadence of a war march at the end of an empire, while the guitars ooze tar-black sludge that coats your synapses and refuses to let go. By the time the album reaches its towering, feedback-drenched climax, you don't just feel like you’ve listened to a great heavy metal record—you feel like you’ve survived an exorcism.

In an era where so much culture feels neutered, sanitized, and engineered to keep us docile, Ascension Rock is a glorious, smoke-belching middle finger to the overlords. Crank it until the drywall cracks, light some black candles, and let Hexecutioner melt your face right the fuck off.

Rating: 5 out of 5 Flaming Chalices