Triangular Ascension – Leviathan Device

John Carpenter's "The Thing" has a proper score at last and yes, I know it's nearly thirty years after the fact. Don't let that detail get in the way of delving into the foreboding menace which Triangular Ascension deliver with a debut album that is sure to please even the most hardened fan of this classic film and satiate the tastes of those who prefer their listening experience strictly on a reclusive level. It's one man running the show, commanding all this tension and his name is Federico Ágreda Álvarez. Haven't heard of him before? Check out his work under the name Zardonic, I'll wait. Alright then. Aside from the unnervingly precise way "Leviathan Device" syncs up to celluloid, there is the visceral, almost guttural sensation of absolute dread you come away from hearing this record with. Everything winds down, coming to it's end regardless of the subject wanting it to or not.

Slowly decaying sounds and then an explosion which comes out of the speakers like shattering glass, something is moving behind the scenes. Yes, this thing is plenty dark, almost the darkest issuance from the Cyclic Law label yet, and that's saying something. They seem to be on a mission to define the term 'dark ambient' with an all encompassing exactitude; I'd say they're well on their way. Once again, the walls come in at you... the very air you breathe is festooned with acrimonious malignancy. This isn't what you play around others, Triangular Ascension are not meant for light-hearted dinner parties or celebrations of life and love. This is the album you play when you sit alone at the table with a glass of wine at three AM letting your mind excrete all the disgusted repugnance you feel towards the world. This is the record you listen to half-awake when your subconscious takes control, when who you really are comes out and breathes fully for a little while... a cordial smile on the lips.

I'll be very curious to hear what the band do to follow this one up, or if there even is a next record. The coldly precise way in which "Leviathan Device" plays out has me grinning inwardly like a kid who has just discovered he can lie with impunity so long as he doesn't show any emotion externally. This is a dead place, a land of wrath and rancor thoroughly given life through the medium of Triangular Ascension's riveting observations wrought in sound. "Leviathan Device" was cultured in a vacuum yet somehow it got out and I'm happy to do all I can to help spread the infection. Listen to the sound of the clock ticking... that's no accident.

Wow. If you read nothing else, read this - Track 6 blows everything away.

But first off, I should note, in order that this might be a more useful review, that when it comes to the genre of "dark ambient" I am fairly conservative, mainstream, and even a bit stodgy in my tastes. I like music that is more or less accessible and doesn't fade into the background, for the most part, though there are exceptions. If you fit this description and have mucked about discogs' dark ambient releases in search of music you'd like, you may have found the same thing I have - an album that is not particularly compositionally challenging, or an 80 minute long album that is one long, uninterrupted, wheezing, screeching drone, will fetch a very high score, to the tune of 90+ votes with a rating of 4.75. In this way, it is not easy to separate the wheat from the chaff.

Happily, Triangular Ascension's "Leviathan Device" should definitely please those who enjoy dark ambient's more accessible releases, yet it should also delight even the haughtier aficionado. Simply put this is an excellent album and a roaring success at every level. Oh yes, it's also some of the most blood-curdling, bone-chilling, outright damn frightening music that does not resort to cheesy gimmicks that you'll ever have the delight of hearing. Among the standouts on an album where everything stands out:

Track 2: Sacrifice and Tragedy - Chilling, unsettling, majestically horrifying and subtlely creepy. Parts of it vaguely remind me of the Statue Room music from the SNES game Super Metroid.

Track 4: Dimensional Warp - Is your jaw dropping? There are some dungeon deep sounds here contrasted against a higher, almost imperceptible haunting choral piece overlaid. Then a sinuous melody like a subterranean river kicks in. Some of these deep sounds you *feel*. Incredible.

Track 5: Throne of Water - A dynamic track with a number of tricks up its sleeve. A behemoth clanging, some disquieting murmur, a lot of changes in this track, but all the moods are frightening and there are some sick sounds in here.

Track 6: Leviathan Device - Yeah. I don't have the words to describe this. Actually, I'm pretty sure no one has the words to properly describe this. Evil, evil choral bits, there are some *crazy* sounds here that only come out through a good set of headphones, some bass pieces that drop so low you feel them in your toes. This is downright Lovecraftian. This is one of the most diabolically delicious pieces of music I've ever heard.

Track 8: Lux in Aqua - Spooky, quiet, unsettling... a somber, subtle, creeping funereal piece of music. Towards the end it drops a few more outwardly aggressive tricks on the listener.

Track 9: This is a more beautiful, chilled out track compared to the rest of the album but it still has the feel of the rest of the album. The word "requiem" is often overused in song titles - this is a requiem indeed, and a stately one.

Conclusion: This is one of the must own, must-hear albums of 2011.