SHRINE OF DENIAL - I, Moloch

A Shout in the Language of Shadows

There are some albums that you don’t listen to; you fall into them. Shrine of Denial’s I, Moloch is exactly such an abyss. Named after the ancient god Moloch, this album makes the screams of sacrificed children, the rule of silent gods and the godless fear that modernity has instilled in us audible. However, in this darkness, as a woman, I hear a different echo: the echo of women who have been sacrificed throughout history, whose voices have been suppressed, whose bodies have been turned into temples.

The dark aesthetics of metal music are often shaped through a masculine language: power, destruction, anger. However, I, Moloch is an album that internalizes this anger, and instead of expressing it, transforms it into a searing inner monologue. For the female listener, this monologue is a familiar sound. It carries the echo of silenced stories and denied traumas in the dark backstreets of social memory.

The album is almost a ritual, both lyrically and sonically. But this is not a ritual of salvation; on the contrary, each piece is an invitation to an inner confrontation. The figure of “Moloch” is not just a god here — it also represents the dark side of the system, the order, and sometimes even sacred concepts like motherhood. Moloch is the invisible violence of the modern world; and women are both the witnesses and bearers of this violence.

The layered structure in the rhythms and vocals reminds me of Sylvia Plath’s “woman who cannot recognize herself in the mirror.” The musical structure oscillates between a scream and a whisper, creating a constant state of alertness in the listener. This almost exactly matches the daily experience of being a woman: an invisible but constantly felt threat; a dilemma where if you make a sound, you will be suppressed, if you remain silent, you will burn.

The vocal performance in particular is like a narrative of collapse that hovers around the boundaries of the male voice. It is a voice that is exhausted rather than destructive. And this exhaustion reminds me of how exhausted women are in a world where they are constantly forced to “stay strong.” The myth of the strong woman is not indestructible; just like the fatigue that seeps through the walls of sound on the album, this power also quietly cracks.

When viewed through a woman’s eyes, I, Moloch is not just a metal album; it is the musical text of a collective trauma. It is an interior space where repressed anger, unspoken pain and most importantly silenced feminine narratives echo. In this album, women are not just victims; they are also witnesses, bearers of memory and those who know the inside of even the darkest temples.

#IMoloch