The Atlas Moth are a band that eschews any kind of tidy classification. Much like other so-called “post metal” bands, their music doesn’t really fit anywhere in the comically intricate latticework of metal genres, sub-genres, and sub-sub-genres. The easiest album to nail down is their 2009 debut, A Glorified Piece of Blue-Sky; it’s a pretty straightforward marriage of the sludge of Neurosis and the dreaminess of Isis. They readily admit that they “found themselves” on their next album, An Ache For The Distance, a dark, melancholy adventure that borrows liberally from black metal, doom, sludge, psychedelia, and shoegaze. That album is as addicting as it is immersive, and it was one of the most acclaimed metal releases of 2011. Given the success of Ache, and the huge progression between their first two albums, The Old Believer was rightfully viewed as one of the most anticipated metal releases of 2014. I’m happy to say that The Atlas Moth didn’t disappoint.
All of the things that made An Ache For The Distance such a memorable record are abundant on The Old Believer. There are rich layers of sound and atmospherics lurking in every song. The spooky beginning of “City of Light” is one of the highlights of the album; the strings and synths help build suspense and a sense of dread before the song absolutely explodes into its fiery verse. The keys during the verses of “Halcyon Blvd” match up perfectly with the off-beat drumming to make it into such a catchy, unusual song.
These flourishes wouldn’t be as effective if they didn’t have a strong foundation to build upon. The Atlas Moth’s music has always been driven by the guitars. It’s become pretty common for metal bands to have three guitarists, but no one puts them to better use than The Atlas Moth. The harmonies and melodies are beautiful and majestic. Andrew Ragin and David Kush’s guitar tones sound as rich and perfect as ever, and their dueling leads are the highlight of the album for me. It’s really hard to pick a favorite, because there are incredible parts on every song, but the guitars during the bridge of “The Old Believer” help make it one of the most dramatic moments on the album.
There is a prevailing sense of dread and anguish that permeates every song. The Atlas Moth’s music has always had this quality, but it feels more pronounced on The Old Believer, and for good reason; the band has dealt extensively with the loss of loved ones (“The Sea Beyond”) and the departure of a band member (“The Old Believer”) since they recorded An Ache For The Distance. This sense of gloom is most prevalent in the vocals. Stavros Giannopoulos’s shrill, blackened growls and David Kush’s pensive baritone singing complement each other well. For the most part, one of them still mostly sings his lines while the other sings something completely different, but I really enjoy the moments on this album when they sing together, like the incredibly emotional end of “The Sea Beyond.”
The Old Believer is more cohesive and deeply textured than its predecessor. Sure, none of its songs can top "Holes in the Desert," but “Collider” is catchier than anything on An Ache For The Distance. The Atlas Moth also kept up its tradition of interesting album artwork with The Old Believer. The “first half” of the album cover is pretty cool and creepy, but if you stick it under running water, the white album artwork gives way to reveal a much darker and creepier image; the original image gradually returns as the artwork dries. This is only icing on the cake, though. The Old Believer would still be the most rewarding listen of 2014 if it had a stick figure drawing on the cover, but at least I’ve finally found some use for my hairdryer.
