An underground rail system is noisy, dirty, and chilly. Trains roar by feet away, announcements shrill words you can never quite understand, and trucks rattle by overhead. The atmosphere is tense and slightly manic. The perfect soundtrack for this is the grimy clatter of Anatomy of Habit’s new release Black Openings.
The post-punk/doom outfit creates a brilliant atmosphere of controlled chaos and relief in equal measures throughout their new LP. ‘Black Openings’ opens the group’s fourth album in interesting fashion. In this twenty-minute track there are three distinct sections: a slow, calmer opening; an instrumental passage; and an escalating mass of pure heaviness. Alex Latus’ repeated riffing supports Mark Solotroff’s Ian Curtis-esque droning vocals during the first minutes. Once the vocals drop away, the instruments take over the post-punk desperation and swell into chaos before they also disappear into doomy, industrial noises. Sanford Parker’s production is pristine; each instrument voices its own version of doom and gloom.
“"Indeed, this album is not designed for a casual listen"”
Movement two is best described as quiet cacophony. In the twenty-first century Metro system, headphones or earplugs are commuters’ prized possessions. In the second movement of ‘Black Openings’, two bass notes ring out through the muffled noise to remind the listener of music’s grounding power. This section also widens Anatomy of Habit’s vision to post-rock, akin to outfits like Sigur Rós or Swans. As ‘Black Openings’ comes to a close, Solotroff joins the tortured instruments with desperation and isolation behind their voice. The song grinds toward its end as Solotroff chants the song title in manner that would make Peter Murphy proud.
The drums and guitar combine their strength to open a door in the wall of noise to let both breathing space and a new texture (courtesy of a vibraphone) into the mix of ‘Formal Consequences’. Some tension lifts, though the city still roars overhead. Then the Metro bursts into the sunlight for a few stations. The music becomes more melodic and spacey. Passengers breathe easier and shift their feet a little. Toward the track’s close, though, the doomy vocals return to tell the listener that there is one more underground stint before freedom. The train plunges into the black opening, and once again alien sounds return. Solotroff, in solidarity with their fellow passengers, sounds alone and resigned.
Instruments crash back into final subsuming track ‘Breathing Through Bones’. Urgency and restlessness are on the minds of everyone here from Solotroff to the listener to the commuters in the dark. Swelling up from the ground, instruments and vocals collapse together one last time. Solotroff signs off with the words “I taste your bitter tears.” Bitter tears, indeed: this album is not designed for a casual listen. Post-punk and doom rarely sound this intense and desperate. These veterans of atmosphere, Anatomy of Habit, have created an album worthy of your next underground commute. Lose yourself, if just for a moment, in the brilliant discomfort of Black Openings.