The full-length debut by Boston-based avant-metal group Ehnahre is more immediately accessible than their later work, but only a little. The vocals are delivered in a fairly standard guttural death metal roar; the guitars, while downtuned, are playing recognizable riffs, shadowed by thick, resonant bass; the drums owe as much or more to free jazz players like Rashied Ali or Milford Graves than to metal kit-bashers, but there's a definite forward movement much of the time. During some of the album's softer passages, as on the epic "Part IV," additional voices offer creepy whispers in the background, like ghosts commenting on the music. The album can be seen as a series of crescendos, loosely pasted together, conventional song structure is out the window, but there is quite clearly a plan. The moment the drums drop away, about four minutes into "Part II," leaving the guitars spinning madly in midair, is genuinely thrilling. Gradually, the band re-enters, augmented by horns, but the guitar keeps going on and on, maddening and then finally transcendent. This is fiercely disciplined music, demanding -- and rewarding -- patient dissection.