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Netherworld
Otherworldly Abyss
Umbra Records
Posted: Thursday, May 25, 2006
By: Vlad McNeally
By: Vlad McNeally
Deep drones from unknown voids, Netherworld weaves a haunting dark ambient soundtrack to help fuel one's nightmares.
Netherworld creates music that I would call the polar opposite of new age easy listening. In the tradition of bands like the infamous Lustmord, Otherwordly Abyss is musical antimatter, a black void where unseen forces move. Referred to usually as black ambient or death ambient, its rather harrowing music for those who allow themselves to get sucked into the mood the director wishes to convey.
Comprised of five “songs,” “A,” “B,” “Y,” “S,” and “S,” it is rather impossible to pinpoint each as a separate piece of music. Somewhere in the near silence, there is a deep thunderous shudder, like muffled thunder on an unseen horizon. In “A,” a 17 minute stretch of bleakness, one can hear the hissing breath of something as the faint trace of scattered debris moves invisible. It captures that horror movie moment where the evil thing breathes down the protagonist’s neck, waiting for panic to settle in before striking. From there, the eerie visitor departs back into the silence, while the vague shudder of flute-like bells tremble delicately. For most of the expansive stretch of “B,” a long spine-tingling note shrieks in monotone with the promise of something dire. Meanwhile, one can hear in the distance the audible clank and shuffle of a dusty and sleepy iron machine. Interspersed by the heated breath of furnaces, the haunted automaton shambles and moves, summoning the feeling that one has entered a possessed immense factory. “Y” is filled with the baying din of colossal horns; combined with the surreptitious creaks and groans, it feels as if one is adrift at sea, fog horns doling out a warning of impending doom. Moving like molasses, the creaks build in intensity, finding a back and forth pendulum motion where subtle vibrations emanate with each sway. Finally, as the beast breathes and circles within the “S” duality, its nostrils seem to blow fiery air into one’s ear. Slow and heavy, the presence feels like it is drawing imperceptibly closer, while brassy gongs shimmer timidly in the shadows. However, one can also see this breath as the slow drag of movement, like the muffled sound of wood being dragged in spurts across a stone floor. Finally, further away, one can hear the cyclical shudder of fragile soprano ghosts, like the specter of harp trapped in some helium hell.
Certainly, when it comes to dark drone soundscapes, this sort of subtlety is not for everyone. It has no hooks, it requires patience, and it isn’t out to comfort the listener. Otherwordly Abyss is a piece of music for when you want to be unsettled. It’s for when you want to sit in the dark, alone, and let Netherworld conjure forth that presence that will lurk in the shadows around you, waiting.
Comprised of five “songs,” “A,” “B,” “Y,” “S,” and “S,” it is rather impossible to pinpoint each as a separate piece of music. Somewhere in the near silence, there is a deep thunderous shudder, like muffled thunder on an unseen horizon. In “A,” a 17 minute stretch of bleakness, one can hear the hissing breath of something as the faint trace of scattered debris moves invisible. It captures that horror movie moment where the evil thing breathes down the protagonist’s neck, waiting for panic to settle in before striking. From there, the eerie visitor departs back into the silence, while the vague shudder of flute-like bells tremble delicately. For most of the expansive stretch of “B,” a long spine-tingling note shrieks in monotone with the promise of something dire. Meanwhile, one can hear in the distance the audible clank and shuffle of a dusty and sleepy iron machine. Interspersed by the heated breath of furnaces, the haunted automaton shambles and moves, summoning the feeling that one has entered a possessed immense factory. “Y” is filled with the baying din of colossal horns; combined with the surreptitious creaks and groans, it feels as if one is adrift at sea, fog horns doling out a warning of impending doom. Moving like molasses, the creaks build in intensity, finding a back and forth pendulum motion where subtle vibrations emanate with each sway. Finally, as the beast breathes and circles within the “S” duality, its nostrils seem to blow fiery air into one’s ear. Slow and heavy, the presence feels like it is drawing imperceptibly closer, while brassy gongs shimmer timidly in the shadows. However, one can also see this breath as the slow drag of movement, like the muffled sound of wood being dragged in spurts across a stone floor. Finally, further away, one can hear the cyclical shudder of fragile soprano ghosts, like the specter of harp trapped in some helium hell.
Certainly, when it comes to dark drone soundscapes, this sort of subtlety is not for everyone. It has no hooks, it requires patience, and it isn’t out to comfort the listener. Otherwordly Abyss is a piece of music for when you want to be unsettled. It’s for when you want to sit in the dark, alone, and let Netherworld conjure forth that presence that will lurk in the shadows around you, waiting.
