I’d like to think that if I joined some sort of cult we would pass most of our time by indulging in mad, quasi-religious metal jams. Of course, in reality it would all be bum rape and arguments about whose turn it was to buy the lentils. The combined talents of the cult of my imagination would be unlikely to come up with anything as good as these two records released on Aurora Borealis though, by Sylvester Anfang and L’Acephale.

Belgians Sylvester Anfang appear to have taken their lead from German krautrock legends / commune dwellers Amon Duul, with this new splinter faction requiring the addition of a “II” to their name. New members have been recruited, including from Burial Hex and from the excellent Current 93-influenced and bizarrely-ennobled Kiss The Anus Of A Black Cat. Tracks like “Na Regen Komt Zondvloed” and “Burkelbos” sound deliciously fuggy, like Grails indulging in hyper-extended heavy jams with, well Amon Duul II. “Boom Van de Eerste Menstrautie” (a title I’m not feeding into Google Translate, I really think it best that I don’t know) has a Sunburned Hand Of The Man-style shamanic campfire feel with wordless vocals, acoustic guitars and hand drums. This vibe lingers into “Ossezaaddans”, which adds fuzzed-out guitar and bass and ethnic instrumentation – a tambura drone underpinning the freewheeling psych groove.

The L’Acephale record is more extreme, and quite extraordinary. The project of someone who calls himself – gulp – Seth Sothis Nox La, it combines black metal with Tibetan drones, Estonian classical, Japanese rituals, overdriven electronics and Current 93 folk/texts. Opening track “Vainomoinen Nacht” is pure horror movie, with an Arvo Part-like male choir serenading a fiery cacophony, while a woman shrieks painfully above the flames; this is followed by “Hitori Born Odori” which celebrates a Japanese grave-cleaning festival with some militaristic drumming. “From A Miserable Abode” is black metal screaming over Lasse Marhaug power electronics, before a surprising eruption with eastern woodwinds. David Tibet provides the typically apocalyptic lyrics for “Sleep has His House”, which are intoned almost inaudibly amongst swirling drones and squeals of white noise. The twenty three minutes of closing track “Nothing Is True, Everything Is Permitted” pick up heavy breathing and thunderous metallic textures before finally settling into a heavy (C93-ish) folk guitar riff. This is one superbly-recorded, great-sounding and bloody-terrifying package.

These soon-to-be cult albums are available now from Aurora Borealis and Southern.