Returning from the depths of hell to bring us more soundtracks to a world gone very wrong indeed, An Axis of Perdition haven't made a full-length since 2011's Tenements (of the Anointed Flesh), splitting thereafter in 2013. The little we've had from the band since reforming as a duo (particularly 2020's instrumental EP Effluvia) has been intriguing if not exactly world-shattering, and after being delayed by Covid-19 and Brooke Johnson's move and career-focus, Michael Blenkarn performed much of the album, including the vocals, alone. In a recent interview he speaks about trying to pull back a little from some of the industrial extremes of before to occupy the musical centre ground of industrial and metal jointly, and Apertures comes across as a worthy follow-up to Tenements without trying to challenge the supremacy of the band's earliest material.

Although it's difficult to see any fan of the project preferring this to the likes of Ichneumon or Deleted Scenes, Apertures is certainly a more than solid enough album. Starting with the suitably-titled Corrupted Pulse, a crackling, pulsating piece of ambient that sets a horrific scene and quickly draws you back into the band's nightmarish world, the album immediately shows that few can do it like Axis can. Metempsychosis downright gallops along, the dissonant guitar riffs and whooshing backing propelling things well atop the drums and darkly snarled vocals. Sadly, said drums are programmed, and not in a suitably industrial way but more of a progressive-tinted percussion in mimicry of a human. Band drummer Dan Mullins (also of My Dying Bride of late) was unable to take part in this album's recording, quite a loss, yet the drums are programmed skilfully enough that their automation isn't overtly distracting and it doesn't distract from the album's overall impact too much.

Thankfully the songwriting remains supreme, as the songs (generally taking the pattern of longer piece followed by shorter interlude) are constructed with as much professionalism as before, if sticking a little closely to the formula established by now. That the music is still as effective as it is speaks highly as to the band's skills and those who have grown to love the band's approach to dark music will be as in love as ever, but it's easy to feel a little wistful regret that they haven't pushed the boundaries as much as before. The likes of the screeching Chant of the Worshipful Prey make up for it, however, chittering creatures beneath the central pounding rhythm and Deathspell Omega-esque riffing keeping you on edge with plenty of atmospheric sounds and effects.

There's definitely been a lessening in overt Silent Hill influence, even though spiritually it remains a lodestone for the band, ghostly clean vocals and squealing metallic samples both used extremely well. You could say some of the longer pieces push their length a little too much when brevity would be better yet none of them hit the eight-minute mark, generally keeping around six minutes, and for sure none outstaying their welcome on an album that comes in under the fifty minute mark. This is definitely a record for headphones and stillness to allow the dark magic to work, yet even on the move the likes of The Truth Is There to Tear Apart distracts you with a dragging metallic object (a scythe? A machete?) and the creepy radio transmission that recalls earlier works. Tracks are distinct, too, the vocals on Private Acts of Abnegation turning to hissing madness atop relentless dissonant grooves and screeching metallic noise.

Throughout, the shorter interlude pieces are masterful enough to be worth listening to in their own rights, firmly placing you in a nightmarish sewer of the imagination and never dragging on anywhere near to the point of boredom - even the nearly four minute Flesh Underfoot, which more than lives up to its name in effect! Yet the longer tracks are undoubtedly the star of this hellish show, lingering in the mind as they progress and disturb; by the time you reach finale I Am Odium, one of the most metallic and propulsive pieces thanks to its prog-tinged riffing and greater sense of melody, it can feel as though you've been on a journey through infested sewers and no longer abandoned cityscapes. As those who share fandom of this project will know, this is a band that makes music for those whose imaginations are sparked most by the deepest and darkest recesses, and although not as freakishly wrong as their best works, Axis of Perdition remain a name that will always attract the attention of the faithful. No-one and nothing else is quite like this band even now, and it's a true pleasure to welcome them back.