The best extreme metal sucks you in, and Achamoth is no exception to this rule. With a pervasive atmosphere formed through feedback, densely reverberating, clanging guitars, and sudden, heart-stopping pauses for stripped-back, menacing plucking, its blackness is omnipresent. Primarily dissonant, replete with lurching and semi-coherent refrains, even its melodiousness is unnerving. Anxiety spikes just as high during the darkly beautiful tremolo passage that ends “Law of Tutelary Spirits” as it does during the endlessly escalating scales of “Princeps” and “Intercession and Invocation.” Off-kilter rhythms and ringing, discordant refrains spliced in between anticipatory ambience invites intrigue, reflecting the mysterious esotericism of the lyrics, stemming presumably from the notion of the titular achamoth—a being unaware of its divine origins. Not that I buy into gnostic theology myself, but here is one instance where the twisting, unsteady nature of the extreme metal on display feels like an exact analog of the shrouded grasping in the dark that characterizes such meditations on ontological mysteries.
If you think you’ve started accidentally reading a Grizzly Butts review, I apologize. Let’s back up. What I’m trying to make clear is that Achamoth really just sounds mysterious, dark, and unnerving. The ebbing, wavering notes overlaying faded, menacing tremolos (“Host’s Scintillation,” “Intercession and Invocation,” “Vessel Possessor”) jointly freeze and lull their listener. The doomy and circular tempos grind clashing chords into nerve-wracking ascensions, as well as forming a sinister stalking template for lurching, bendy guitar to pull on (“Host’s Scintillation,” “Indwelling in Matter”). And the use of quietness (“Princeps,” “Law…” and especially the stomach-dropping slow piano ending “Indwelling in Matter,”) is just as affecting as the use of noise. Achamoth’s shifting layers mean that there’s almost never a singular focus as rollovers push half-refrains in and out, vocals snarl, and resonant bass chugs to foreshadow a higher iteration of the theme. But rather than feeling scattershot and confused, it all slides into a perfect melting pot of anxiety and urgent malevolence.
Even though it can seem a lot to take in, Achamoth’s nigh-on 50-minute exploration doesn’t overwhelm. There’s just enough atmosphere, and just enough melody, or something like it, to weave all its dissonance and strangeness into a coherent tapestry. Embrace the darkness and ponder the Achamoth.
Tracks to Check Out: ”Law of Tutelary Spirits,” “Intercession and Invocation,” “Indwelling in Matter”
