ABJECTION RITUAL - Futility Rites

From the quintessential Quaker state, Pennsylvania, the solo act Abjection Ritual once again descends into the limbo of social marginalization, of post-post-post-industrial civilization, into claustrophobic asylums, into the most incandescent nihilism, driven by a chronic skepticism toward aberration, distress and extreme, phobic alienation.

The city closes in like a coffer around the weak, devouring them, draining their life force: the result is the most contorted, doom-laden sound in post-industrial music: pitch-black, abrasive and scarred by glitches.

The synths work quietly, generating sandy madness, while pneumatic cadences land in the background of the sound, birthing obsessions; "Futility Rites" has all the hallmarks of its niche, but lacks the innovations it would need.

Eight tracks, eight perversions deep in ambient doom, most interesting when it sits on the borderline of grey-area style, as on "Objects Of Wrath" or "Thrust In Thy Sickle And Reap", the darkest, the least abrasive, and perhaps the most dangerous tracks, because they go beyond imagery, beyond Hell, beyond demons and the depravities of the six-feet-under underground.

Amid images of rusted pipes, endless underground tunnels where one might run into rats and skeletons, gutted mattresses and flickering neon lights, Abjection Ritual's soundscape builds its postmodern gothic. A shame that it always lacks that one distinctive, standout track needed to break away from the pack and forge an identity.

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08/01/2017