Hailing from Bristol and named for the Greek god of hindsight (and brother of the unfortunate Prometheus), Epimetheus make good on the promise of their evocative name with a series of lyrics that, bordering on the neoclassical, would be worthy of reading even if the accompanying music was not uniformly excellent. Fortunately, the music – a gritty form of doomgaze – matches the unearthly ambitions of the words, and Perseus 9 emerges as a work where each individual element, from the arrangement and the production to the artwork and the lyrics, complements the other.
The album opens with taut stoner groove of Earthbound, a track that nods to the Melvins and Sleep via The Sisters Of Mercy, the latter most obvious in the semi-spoken word vocals that form the verse. It’s a strong start, the band juxtaposing eerie post-punk with soaring space rock, all of which builds to a wonderfully hemp-soaked solo. The track doesn’t so much end as slink off down an alleyway, emerging at the other end wearing Om’s overcoat and Earthless’ trousers for the doom-laden Coalesce. A fantastic, deeply hypnotic piece of music, it’s greatly enhanced by the band’s DIY approach to recording (for the bulk of this album, they simply hired a practice space and, with Stan Braddock at the helm, unleashed hell), which gives the music an authentic feel so often lacking from more polished productions.
Having got the album off to an impressive start, Epimetheus up the ante with Drift Beyond, a melodic piece that adds a sprinkle of Deftones and just a hint of Tad to the mix. With a vast, riff-strewn chorus and a seriously sweet bass run leading to a hectic second act, it would be an album highlight if it weren’t immediately eclipsed by the eerie Held No More. Another showcase for Ben’s impressive four-string skills, it quietly borrows elements from Mogwai’s dynamic post-rock and Botch’s enigmatic hardcore, while remaining true to the band’s doomgaze core. The resulting track – hypnotic, psychedelic, and schizophrenic – is a mini masterpiece that makes good on all the promises of greatness dropped during the preceding three tracks.
Rather more immediate, Perseus 9 doesn’t so much wake the listener from their slumber as fire a rocket straight at their face. From the whipcrack riff that opens it to the taught, Sabbath-esque groove that powers the track, it keeps you hooked. Shorter and sharper, the stabbing riffs of Calling are absolutely electrifying. In the notes, the band assert that the “the volume, frankly, was insane.” On Calling you can well believe it for, even at low levels, you can feel the crackle and hum of overloading amps running at the very limits of their capacity. With its melancholic vocal and understated percussion, it’s another dynamic piece of music underscoring the band’s already impressive arrangement skills.
Epimetheus’ debut wraps up with one final epic. Titled Terraform, it refuses to reveal its charms all at once, once again nodding to the likes of Sleep, Om, the late, lamented Orange Goblin, and just a hint of Pink Floyd circa Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun. It’s a spacey finale that leaves you in no doubt as to the band’s potential to go the distance.
In all honesty, I hadn’t really expected to review Perseus 9 this morning. More often than not, my approach is to listen a good few times before putting pen to paper. However, every once in a while you get an album where the words just flow and this was one of those cases. Within moments of opening number Earthbound looming into earshot, I was hooked, and the album didn’t let me go until it was done. A refreshingly authentic and original debut, while it nods to its influences, Perseus 9 finds Epimetheus very quickly establishing their own identity and, with songs of this quality, there is every reason for the band to start garnering considerable attention soon. 9/10
