Ritual Howls pours out a whirlpool of deep sounds in the swamp of their newest record, Into the Water. As the current slides through high tide, Ritual Howls creates a terrifying thrill ride of sound spilling down through a waterfall of terror.
Ritual Howls Ripples the Surface
With “Scatter the Scars,” Ritual Howls clashes reverb chords and synth sounds between layers of breathing, sounding like a soundboard of horror. New wave vocals and rockabilly background vocals play seamlessly off the luau strumming of the guitar, meshing over the roughness of the bass.
Bouncing synth sounds pulsate like a light flickering, matching the beats of the percussion bursting open “Bound By Light.” The rapidity of this rhythm is like a speed chase in an ’80s film, casting a nervous energy of cascading beats.
When the vocals rupture in ghoulishly, they push through a filtered fog, booming with a brainwashing subliminal message, syncopated above the instrumentals.
“Nervous Hands” evokes an electric shock with the vibration of the fuzz bass. With a rhythm intrinsic to the orbed quality of the guitar chords, the deep darkness of the vocals pair well with the anxiety that the music creates. The darkness of the bass, as it reverberates this static energy is a conjuring sound paralleling the Ritual Howls vocals, calling out as if to the underworld.
Even through the chords lighten towards the end, with a ghostly whispering soaring above, the drum machine creates a foundation of beats like “nervous fingers dare to make a sound.”
In “Coils And Magnets” Ritual Howls behaves more mild mannered, with slowed down whole notes from the drums springing underneath the piercing synth and guitar sounds, like a sunrise after a night of damage.
The instrumentals are reflective, anticipating, on the verge of something. They sound like the magnetic pull between two objects, detached but trying to push together again, creating a circular drone-like pattern.
“Park Around the Corner” intermixes haunting synth sounds, rapid-fire drumbeats, and a rock n’ roll bass with bell-like sounds from a boy riding his bike. A surf guitar and high pitched sparkling synth juxtaposes in a fervor of fright, and the vocals boom like an ancient and exotic monster lurking through a dense air.
In “Spirit Murder,” the guitar strums in waves, like a rising tide of minor melodic sound, and a tambourine drum beat rushes in the background behind the elongated guitar tones. A spatter of talking through a megaphone breaks the beat, but it repeats and starts again.
The vocals then awaken in the same bass deepness with the guitar twanging in a celebration of notes, chiming in a spooky cheery quality. As the song spirals down, the vocals trail away in a muffled frogginess.
Animalistic murmurings push through the forefront of “A Thoughtful Beast” with insect sounds and creature crawling. Spoken vocals ride over the music like a slasher chases its pray in a scary movie, slowly, sometimes in slow motion, but moving steadily. And the instrumentals move like a racing backdrop behind a stand-still runner.
At the end, a siren synth whirs an alarm, a dissonant alarm over the marching drums. And Ritual Howls leaves us with this, “Is this it? Am I done?”
