Psychomanteum - Oneironaut FLAC

This thing plays out like a requiem. It may be for life on Earth, it may be for the numerous species which become extinct daily but no matter how you listen to this album, it is very very downcast in tone. As this style is given to weigh on the introspective side of things, I'm accustomed to the proceedings being quite dark, I just never thought it could be so depressing. There isn't any aggression within "Oneironaut" to be discovered, just a continual abandonment of hope and any chance of redemption. It reminds me of the 'Aus Der Welt' single Sophia did some years back, but without the orchestrations just wave after wave of doom. If this band aren't out to make you withdraw from the human race, I'd be shocked. Their label once again shows it's remarkable forte for diversity in releasing Psychomanteum's debut. It must be quite a challenge to try and determine just how many shades of black there are within the color, Psychomanteum are a decidedly blueish hued resident of this shadowy realm.

Those familiar with the phenomena of St. Elmo's Fire will get the reference, anyone else will not and like this unearthly example of luminous plasma, Psychomanteum's album is charged. Stray too close and it will envelope you just as it has this disc in it's murky fog of sinister ambience. The usual assessment of what dark ambient is does not apply here, this band are destined to make a mark and we are all witness to the first stage in their development. Comparisons to the glorious Cities Last Broadcast album or even label-head Arbour's Visions project are not without merit, but 'Oneironaut' does something those others do not, and indeed, no one has yet insofar as I know: their work plays out like a lullaby in half or even quarter time. Are those audible cadences or is it just my own imagination running away with the bit spit out of it's mouth.

Whatever the case may be, this record has the tone of aeons passing, of time becoming little more than a forgotten measurement of interstellar distance. To walk out amongst the stars and gaze up at their never-ending proliferation under a new moon or perhaps you'll choose to just lie quietly in the evening next to someone and feel their heart reverberating off your own, it won't change now and perhaps it never will. These feelings of abandonment, the awful isolation in the embrace of another who just can't know the meaning of the questions you ask... this is what Psychomanteum encapsulate and they are, without hesitation, insanely skilled to have channeled so much cerebral impact onto a single album which runs barely over an hour long.

The hum of regeneration, a singular consciousness. Alive but not knowing the reasons why, and on we go day after day. Listen, really listen to this album and you'll feel your synaptic relays being played, then animated like a finely tuned marionette. Life from lifelessness and back again. If I ever find myself taking a walking tour on the surface of Mars, this is what I'll have in my player. 'Psychomanteum' is a spectacularly vast opening salvo and more importantly, another exquisitely packaged release to clear the room with. Give me a venue that plays this sort of thing, just once, and all the rancor will have been worth while.