Límyte by PYLAR
Drawing from drone metal, psychedelic rock, and pagan folk music, Límyte sways and groans under the weight of its own oppressive atmosphere. Like a burning church, this album creaks and crackles with dissonant orchestral tones and ritualistic chanting that threatens to summon something sinister. Sure, an album filled with screeching violins, howling wind, and wails of the damned may at first seem like something that should be relegated to a novelty soundtrack, but the musical labyrinth woven by Spain-based PYLAR is worthy of far more than collecting dust on the Spirit Halloween shelves.
This unique release is split into two 18-minute tracks, with a short interlude in between. The first track Límite sludges along with a solemn pace and rumbling tones, setting an eerie and melancholic mood that will be carried throughout the rest of the album. To transition from this abandoned graveyard, Aniquilación serves as an interlude, introducing buzzy basslines and warbling synth. In contrast to the atmospheric ominous dirge of the first track, Ruptura-afuera plunges the listener into an underworld of Lovecraftian horror, with punishing technical percussion, guttural growls, distorted backmasking, and the obligatory theremin.
Has PYLAR actually released an unknowable cosmic evil with this album? Even the H.R. Giger-esque album cover seems to suggest some sort of ritualistic birth and ascension. If the Old Ones really are responsible for inspiring this phenomenal release, I for one welcome our new experimental sludge metal overlords.
- Kalen
