Atriarch
An Unending Pathway

From the rainy Northwest, specifically from Portland, gusts of a cold and desolate wind come through, the kind that scrapes your face and leaves a lasting impression of its passage. These gusts have Atriarch as the main culprits. That sliver of the United States is increasingly revealing itself over the years (if not decades) as a hotbed of intriguing artists, which is no secret. Our band is no exception, and with this "An Unending Pathway", their first release on Relapse, they hit the target right at the center, without any compromises or unnecessary fuss. They're a four-piece, but they prefer to identify as a single entity that, through music, can tear a rift in the veil that obstructs and blinds our true self-awareness, surpassing that superficial sheen to dive beyond the shadows of commercialization and massification. Oh, you can find this on their Bandcamp, don't feel too bad about it.

The dark alchemy that permeates the full length and brings it into a decadent dimension is one that cannot go unnoticed. It flows seamlessly, without any slowdowns or unnecessary complications, making "An Unending Pathway" cohesive and gut-wrenching. It is not a rapid-fire hammering, quite the opposite. The heaviness of stubborn riffs with sludge overtones that bring to mind the more cerebral Neurosis or AmenRa converges into a dense magma of sonic influences. At times, echoes of the martial industrial stride of Killing Joke can be heard, or the theatricality of Dark Wave solutions that embrace the abrasion of distortions dragging further south, becoming more contorted and more claustrophobic. In their journey, there is space to branch into blast beats of black metal origin or chaotic escalations, without them being disconnected or futile, but ready to emphasize the funereal and oppressive aura of each composition. It is a catharsis that fully absorbs Lenny Smith (vocals), the author of authentic warped and luciferian chants akin to Bauhaus or Joy Division that can transform in the blink of an eye into heartbreaking harsh and confused screams, as if they were spat out haphazardly with the genuine need to rid oneself of something in moments of hysteria and low clarity. Sinister whispers and subdued atmospheres add to the musical canvas of Atriarch the right psychedelic connotation where the darkest night reigns supreme. It is the sensation of an imminent and inevitable collapse that feeds the vault where the evil and apocalyptic nature of the group's pulsating soul from Oregon is stored.

There's time to slowly walk towards one's weaknesses, magnificently represented by fluid melodies that unfold sinuously before crashing against the sepulchral tolls that Ronald Avila marks behind the skins. The doom heart closes the circle in a despair that is not only distressing but seeks to break free from the chains of narrow perceptions. Then there's a spirituality, an enveloping leitmotif with ritualistic and tribal traits that climbs strongly along the backbone of the platter, revealing itself under the full moon of a labyrinthine forest. Ultimately, the musical discourse here works superbly precisely because Atriarch have set no barriers to the sources they draw from, thus managing to conceive everything with the right balance, creating one of the top works of this autumn. A vigorous tail-end strike and yet another release that gradually elevates Relapse back to the top of independent labels.