The devil’s workshop is still open and Poland’s extreme metal antagonists are ready to welcome you in with their new release I,Scvlptor
They have returned from the furnace carrying eight pieces of evidence that the machine is not merely alive—it has become considerably more dangerous with age.
This is not quite a conventional new Behemoth full-length. The band themselves describe it as a standalone “bridge” between their foundational years and whatever comes next: seven studio recordings and one live track, combining new material, resurrected early songs, a discarded gem and two tributes to the ancient gods of extreme metal.
And somehow, against all reasonable expectations, the thing not only works, it works beautifully.
The opener “I, Scvlptor” is enormous. Not merely heavy—architectural. It has the kind of monumental weight Behemoth have perfected over the years, recalling the grand, apocalyptic scale of “O Father O Satan O Sun!” and “Lucifer,” but without simply photocopying the past. Nergal describes the song as being about the endless process of shaping oneself, fighting against matter, limitation and ultimately mortality.
That is the central joke of existence, of course. You spend your whole life carving yourself into something you can recognise, only to discover that the statue has an expiration date. Behemoth understand this and thrive off it.
The riffing is huge, the drums sound like artillery being fired into the next dimension, and the song contains one of those left turns that makes you realise these lunatics still have somewhere to go, even if the sat nav has temporarily lost it’s signal.
Then comes “Lord ov the Horizons”. It begins with restraint. Clean, quasi-sung passages and a more rock-oriented sensibility establish an atmosphere that feels almost gothic before the whole structure mutates into something considerably nastier. The song is deliberately divided into two contrasting halves: lyrical and atmospheric on one side, militant and vicious on the other.
This is perhaps the most important song on the record because it demonstrates that Behemoth’s future doesn’t necessarily involve turning the volume knob until the building collapses.
Then the ghosts arrive.
“Rise of the Blackstorm of Evil” reaches all the way back to 1992, when Behemoth were still a young black-metal organism absorbing the filthy DNA of Samael, Celtic Frost and Hellhammer. Nergal has rebuilt the track without destroying its original skeleton, reworking the rhythms and guitar arrangements so that the primitive creature now walks around wearing modern Behemoth armour.
The result is fantastic.
“In Thy Pandemaeternum,” originally from Pandemonic Incantations, receives similar treatment. Nergal has long regarded the original recording as compromised by its chaotic sound and mix, believing that stronger riffs were trapped underneath the production. Here they are dragged into the light and given the full modern treatment.
Have no fear though as these are not lazy anniversary exercises, they are archaeological digs conducted with explosives.
Up next is “Begotten,” the odd little bastard that didn’t fit on The Shit Ov God. And thank Satan for that because here it finally makes sense.
The song has a catchy, new-wave/post-gothic streak running through its blackened machinery, which makes it feel less like an outtake and more like a secret passage that somebody forgot to put on the original map. Nergal has said that its stylistic difference was precisely why it didn’t belong on the previous record.
That difference becomes its strength here.
“In League With Satan,” the Venom classic, gets the full Polish exorcism treatment, with Dimmu Borgir’s Shagrath joining Nergal on vocals and seven-string guitars giving the track a substantial new weight. The song was recorded partly in connection with Behemoth’s 2026 tour with Dimmu Borgir, and you can practically hear the stadium crowd waiting to yell the chorus back at them.
Then comes Bathory’s “The Return of Darkness and Evil,” captured live in Athens with Sakis Tolis of Rotting Christ on guest vocals. The performance was recorded in February 2026, and the band chose the first live performance rather than manufacturing some sterile studio version. That was exactly the right decision because black metal was never supposed to smell this clean.
The early songs aren’t being worshipped. They’re being rebuilt. The new songs aren’t pretending the past never happened. “Begotten” openly comes from the previous creative cycle. The covers acknowledge the bands that helped create Behemoth in the first place. And the live track reminds everyone that, beneath the elaborate imagery and studio architecture, this is still a fucking band that has to walk onto a stage and make the walls shake.
I, Scvlptor is not the band desperately trying to produce The Satanist II.
Behemoth have spent decades sculpting themselves into one of extreme metal’s most formidable monuments. Now they seem increasingly interested in the act of sculpting rather than the finished statue.
That is why I, Scvlptor matters.
The work is never finished.
Donnie’s Rating: 10/10
I, Scvlptor is out on 4th September via Nuclear Blast
