Band:	Pylar
Album:	Abysmos
Style:	Drone doom metal
Release date:	March 2022

01. La Caída (Descenso Definitivo A Través De Las Profundidades Mayores)
02. Fervor Espiral
03. Crepitación Solar
04. Pasado Profundo

No form can exist in the abyss.

If you're familiar with Pylar, chances are that you know that our dronehead-in-chief, Apothecary, reviewed not one but two of their records, in addition to interviewing the band, plus God knows what co-op shamanic rituals might have been interchanged. Point is, when a new Pylar came about, you probably assumed that if anyone would review it, you'd have a pretty good bet at predicting who it would be. You're wrong. There were multiple people won over by Pylar's mastery of drone music. People like me.

Though it's obvious how (meaning through whom) I got into Pylar, it is worth noting that I probably won't be able to tell you as accurately what the dominant characteristic of each previous Pylar album is, nor precisely what Abysmos does in relation to their back catalog. Though it was clear that albums like Pyedra were more jazzy and riffy, while Horror Cósmyco were more formless, I think a lot of my listening experience with Abysmos feels more informed by similarly jazzy and ritualistic bands that I had discovered in the meantime, by which I mean mostly Neptunian Maximalism. And Abysmos may not have the colossal weight of it, but the transcendental immersion is there is spades.

It should be obvious by now that Pylar's music is one to feel. The ritual ambient complete with chants combined with the free jazz instrumentation, the grooves reminescent of krautrock in the vein of Amon Düül II and Popul Vuh, the drone doom metal of Earth and Sunn O))), all work in a soundscape that you're supposed to lose yourself in. Specifically focused on improvisation and prolonged buildups, Abysmos continues the formless abstract path of Horror Cósmyco, amps the keys and the percussion especially, giving the transcendental ritualistic vibe a newfound cosmic edge bordering on creepy sci-fi. I mean, when their previous album was literally called "cosmic horror", it's only natural that the follow-up is also horrifying and cosmic.

Needless to say, Abysmos is pretty removed from metal, even in its harshest moments, being much more likely to appeal to a fan of free jazz or krautrock or ritual ambient than an Iron Maiden fan. I'd say that this might be Pylar's most formless and airy album, while still having some roots in the drone doom sound. And maybe in space no one can hear you scream, but there's less barriers towards the great beyond, the abyss. With some luck, you can pick up some transmissions. Not through your radio device, but through ritual.