Once upon a time, humans and gods talked. Their medium was a plant. This plant is mentioned in some of the oldest texts in the world, and is itself revered as a god. Soma (or Haoma, if you’re feeling Persian about it) allowed human beings to visualise themselves enthroned among these ethereal beings. It was a stargate from the real to the un-real, micro to the macro. Thought to be extinct now, the plant supposedly granted immortality and virility. The sacred text the Rig Veda raves about it like a five-star Yelp review from the dawn of consciousness: “We have drunk the Soma; we have become immortal; we have gone to the light; we have found the gods.” Human beings tripping on Soma quite literally changed the fabric of the entire world as we know it.
If there was any soundtrack to that so sacred of communions, then it is 'Abur', the sophomore album by Belgian psychonauts Pothamus. Based in Mechelen, Belgium – a home to polyphonic music for at least 600 years – around 10 years ago Mattias M. Van Hulle, Michael Lombarts and Sam Coussens banded together to form this musical project. Named for the Greek word for water (which you may recognise from words such as Hippopotamus), the group has been trudging the musical desert for many a year. Their first album, 'Raya', was released during the height of lockdown, and delivered a brilliantly tact droning soundtrack to a world gone by. Now with 'Abur', Pothamus seeks to combine the worlds of “eastern philosophy and western esotericism into a unique ontology” – a lot of disciplines shoved into one sentence. Does 'Abur' deliver? Does it heck. With more pulse than a lentil soup and more drone than a no-fly zone, this album is a voyage into futurist sonic-ritualism. Time to tune in and trip out.
Diving head-first into this album’s buttery pool of warm resonance is certainly an experience. The moment the album is turned on the listener is enveloped in what can only be described as an audio sandstorm. With the first track 'Zhikarta', the sleeper has awakened. Seven minutes of pulse-pounding and layered synth-struments with mantric vocals as company. They wail like the winds on Arrakis as the drums continue pounding out a ritual circle – the bass covered in fuzz, resplendent.
Much credit is due here to Chiaran Verheyden who headed the production for cultivating something that's half Advaitic Songs by Om and half Hans Zimmer’s DUNE soundtrack on a raucous mescaline bender. The second track 'Ravus' bursts through with urgency. This is a war-song. The vocals are harsh, death-metal growls that penetrate the thick atmosphere. Ferocious bass once again resonates with sound and fury. Believe it or not, this song also features a classic breakdown, with the drums coming together to rouse what feels like a legion of warriors buried beneath the silts.
With the whir of the Surpeti (an ancient Indian mantra-box that hums out a dull melody to be chanted to), 'De-varium' begins. This one feels similar to a Wardruna offering, wrapped in mystery. A mere three minutes, it is a temporary reprieve. Until the storm named 'Savartuum Avur' arises into a ritual circle. The circle slowly expands through conservative usage of drums. Until, like the Trinity explosion, it upsurges into madness. An impenetrable wall of sound to make Phil Spector fall to his knees.
The next track 'Ykavus' acts as another breather – featuring more of the impressively utilised Surpeti. It is a low hum, a soft guiding hand to the last quarter of the album. It ultimately crescendos into the final track, 'Abur'. This is a fifteen minute odyssey into the realm of the immaculate, with soft and harsh melodies interspersing with that same musical mastery that underpins the rest of the album. It is an out-of-body album closer not produced with such majesty since Gojira’s 'The Way of All Flesh'. In a similar way, the music evaporates, and leaves you wondering what your own name was before you hit play.
'Abur' is balanced like a ritual knife, for it is sharp on both edges. Its heavy moments are heavier because of the spaces in between - those rare, vital breaths before the next plunge into the maelstrom. It doesn’t exhaust you; it raises you up. You do not feel encumbered, but more virile than before. It’s a sonic Soma, a mind-altering concoction wrapped in distortion. What Pothamus has done here is achieved something transcendental yet earthly. The perfect soundtrack to lounge around your pad and contemplate the meaning of life.
But, it feels like a cop-out to describe just how much this album sounds like one giant cosmic onion that unravels into a perfect mandala. The reality is that you have to be in the correct frame of mind to experience music such as this. If you are to venture into this album, know that it is one best enjoyed mindfully. If you release yourself and tune yourself to its frequency, you will be able to view what Pothamus is trying to achieve. Like 'Raya' before it, this album is an excellent addition to the growing repertoire of not only Pothamus but also to the scene in general. Relentless and determined envelope-pushing is just what this genre needs right now - the future isn’t just bright; it’s extraordinary.
'Abur' will be released on February 14th 2025 via Pelagic Records.
Words: Kiarash Golshani
Photos: Céline Gladiné
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