Review
Indian
From All Purity

There's a song on Indian's From All Purity titled "Directional" and given the Chicago-based band's implementation of new ideas such as fuzzed out guitars and meat cleaver sludged riffs, it'd be easy to make a joke about the group going in new directions. However, the phrase "new direction" implies a sort of willingness. From All Purity, the group's fifth full-length and second on Relapse, calls to mind something more akin to an accused pagan being confronted by fellow townfolk and being hung, drawn, and quartered for transgressions. Over six songs, From All Purity is a self-contained, isolated, and painful experience. Not to get the ropes twisted, it's a terrific record but one characterized by pained vocals and sheer terror. 

Once again produced by Sanford Parker (Nachtmystium, Twilight), there's a real horror on display over the six tracks on this record. Album opener "Rape" sets the mood of sheer desolation, and doesn't relent over its nearly eight minutes. Phelgm-caked vocals fight for room over the heavy guitars. "Directional" finds the band incorporating more of a heavy drone sound to chart their path as the first four minutes almost serve as a veritable warm up to the punishing conclusion. 

"Rhetoric of No" is arguably the standout here, and the one that most sounds like it wouldn't have been on the last album. It comes out of the gate strong as the drums have a bit of a gallop behind them. There's still considerable manic growling, but a sinister guitar turn in the middle suite almost makes this feel like two different songs. 

The instrumental noise freakout "Clarify" plays out like the soundtrack from a found footage space-based slasher flick. Throughout the album, the drums plod along at a pace reminiscent of a bog monster whose risen from the murky swamp and is marching one murky step at a time to devour a summer camp. The closer "Disambiguation" flips the script slightly toward the end as some black metal blast beats enter the fray, but unsurprisingly the terror still hangs in the air. 

Overall, this is undeniably a step up from 2011's Guiltless and one that finds the blackened doom outfit creating walls of sound that at times recall a Buzzoven, Weedeater, or the Melvins. If there's one detraction to this effort, it's that the record seems endless. Despite clocking in at 50 minutes, at times it seems as if it'll never be over. Chalk that up to the consistent claustrophobia that paces the album, but the lack of variety here makes this a very good doom album as opposed to a great one. 

Throwing the "doom" label around can be a dicey proposition as it generally calls to mind the sinister exploits of an Electric Wizard or the sludge stomp of Sleep, but with regards to Indian it explains the evil pacing. It's only January but the gauntlet has been thrown. Indian is a heavy, terrifying band and they dare you to best them.