Cradle of Filth - Midian

Let me tell you—something is happening to me. If I’m not careful, I’ll be in full corpse paint by next week. I’m not joking. I’ve found yet another so-called "black metal" band I’m absolutely celebrating.

Cradle of Filth was formed in 1991 in Suffolk by Dani Filth—vocalist, creative ringleader, Victorian vampire gremlin. He’s the only constant member of the band to this day.

From the start, they did things differently. There was always a keyboardist. There were female vocals. In 1993, Andrea Meyer joined as their first backup vocalist, and by 2009, that role had fused—Ashley Ellyllon joined as both keyboardist and vocalist.

Their line-up may have changed, but the blueprint stuck: melody, drama, and chaos.

Cradle started in the early 90s as part of the second wave of black metal—raw sound, evil imagery, all the essentials. Their debut The Principle of Evil Made Flesh (1994) is still accepted by the kvlt gatekeepers.

But even then, they were different.

Less bleak, more theatrical. Less nihilism, more gothic romance.

Dani pulled from Venom, Bathory, Iron Maiden, Mercyful Fate, and Possessed—and layered it with vampires, choirs, and literary decadence.

By the time Midian dropped in 2000, they'd gone full symphonic, and black metal purists had declared them fallen. Too big. Too dramatic. Too mainstream.

So what are we listening to if it’s not black metal?

Who cares. It slaps.

Midian is a genre blender with zero restraint.

There’s black metal, death metal, classic heavy metal, symphonic metal—and Cradle of Filth just takes what works and makes it bigger. Louder. Stranger.

Thrashy riffs. Blastbeats. Operatic vocals. Atmospheric synths.

And Dani Filth’s voice—gods, that voice.

Live, he’s a one-man horror opera. Screeching, whispering, growling, full clean vocals. Every song feels like it might combust. The range is wild. The delivery’s even wilder.

And it never gets boring. Every track throws something new at you. I’ve literally gasped mid-song because of some shriek I wasn’t ready for.

The first half of Midian is a full gallop—fast, heavy, frenzied. The second half eases up just slightly, but doesn’t lose the impact.

Apart from Cthulhu Dawn and Lord Abortion (my obvious loves), a few others knocked me flat:

• Death Magick for the Adepts—organ-driven chaos and the most deranged Dani shriek I’ve ever heard. At 1:35 he just goes feral. I whooped. Loudly. Alone.
• Tearing the Veil from Grace—starts like a gothic lullaby, ends like an exorcism. That scream at 5:50? Instant chills. Every time.

But honestly? There’s not one weak track here. Midian is a front-to-back masterpiece.

This one’s a Keeper. Fully. No question.

It’s already on permanent repeat in this household.

I’ve started peeking into other Cradle releases, and I can promise you—this won’t be my last Cradle of Filth review.

#danifilthfangirl

Yes, I said it. No, I won’t take it back.