Ascension of the Watchers, “Nüminosum”

Ascension of the Watchers, Numinosum
13th Planet Records (Arrives: Feb. 18)
By: Christa Titus

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Those who know Burton C. Bell by way of Fear Factory need this heads-up: Ascension of the Watchers is a 180-degree shift from his industrial death metal output. And for some tracks on Numinosum—like lullaby “Violet Morning” and the dance club drum’n'bass of “Like Falling Snow”—the change is nearly 360.

Bell notes on the back cover of Numinosum that the record’s primary goal is “to fill a want, on many occasions, where some soul-stirring music is needed.” Indeed, he, John Bechdel and Edu Mussi have fleshed out Ascension of the Watchers’ 2005 five-song EP “Iconoclast” with six other semi-stream-of-consciousness ruminations on love and loneliness, and the wonder of whether God’s turning a deaf ear to prayers. The setting of rural Pennsylvania, where the album was recorded, bears a strong influence. Nature dominates that landscape with rolling hills, vast tracts of farmland and trees, making the environment conducive to pondering life’s big-picture issues.

Numinosum is a mediation for those whose minds are irritated by tinny new-age keyboards and faux angelic choirs and are instead soothed with relaxed beats and deep grooves. Opening track “Ascendant” draws you in with a heartbeat and a sense of rising anxiety that something is about to burst. “Evading” picks up the pace to fly along on acoustic guitar and jangling drums. Skipping over to “Canon for My Beloved,” AOTW invokes the cold solitude of the north with a wolf’s forlorn howl and a crackling fire, then slips into a desultory shuffle that sounds a gong for regrettable heartbreak.

The band brings surprising cheerfulness to the proceedings on “Moonshine,” but that’s eradicated when “Mars Becoming” channels the warring nature of the Roman god with chord-heavy sturm und drang. “On the River” is another bright streak, but most of the album reminds you that solemnness is the business at hand. Even dedication “Violet Morning”—which could be mistaken for an Iron and Wine outtake—is a weighty love song to Bell’s baby daughter, with him singing, “You are the light for my love/You are the love for my God.”

Numinosum isn’t something to throw on for background music while getting on with your day; the album warrants intimate space, like when the last five people at a party spend the rest of the night on more serious talk than who got robbed at the Super Bowl. The songs themselves stretch and sprawl—in the case of clock- and train-inspired instrumental “Quintessence,” it chugs for over 15 minutes. Ascension of the Watchers doesn’t write music that gives a quick mental fix. But then, the soul can’t be reached with sound bites.

(To read Christa Titus’ live review of Ascension of the Watchers for Metal Edge.com, click here.)

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