The epic subterranean drones of Oran are dark, imposing stuff, a monument of aphotic ambience that possesses a massive metallic undercurrent that emerges all throughout the album. Clew Of Theseus's music on this double cassette set evokes endless visions of urban plague and decay through the slow motion crashing of metal, suspended orchestral drones that decompose into black space, and massive electrical currents, dark and enveloping like my favorite isolationists from the early 90's, but inhabiting it's own harsh sound world formed from an array of sound sources that includes harmonica, bells, metallic objects, cymbals, reeds, piano and vocals, electric guitar and electronic effects.

Orna begins as a hushed dronescape of extended bell-tones and low thrum, the richly resonant waves of prayer-bowl hum reaching out through the darkness, joined with additional chiming sounds and melodious slow-motion bells billowing out through the depths. After a few minutes, though, swells of distorted, metallic heaviness begin to swell up, waves of almost orchestral guitar rising out of the depths in surges of almost Sunn-like crush that are combined with massed strings and delayed guitar notes stretching into infinity. The sound continues to be underscored by these heavier low-end rumblings, enormous slabs of metal grinding against the surface of the earth and doom-laden glacial riffs forming a blackened symphony of overtones. As huge as this sounds, it's all from just bells, guitar and cymbals, but sounds like an entire string section hovering on a ominous infinite suspended drone, with the sound going through slight subtle shifts, then gradually fading into a more spacious, haunted realm of creaking metal echoes, cavernous emptiness and distant rhythmic pounding, veering into Lustmord-esque territory for awhile.

The atmosphere becomes even creepier and more threatening on the other side of the first tape. Guitars, oscillators, bells and synths craft a shadowy sonic underworld of reverberant metallic rumblings. Feral howls echo through the blackness, as heavy metallic sludge oozes beneath the hum of electrical currents and squealing tendrils of feedback that whip through the darkness. The nightmarish nocturnal ambience is razed by muffled sirens, later replaced by a crushing ultra-distorted synth drone that gets more chaotic and overdriven, blossoming into a vicious writhing slab of harsh noise and swarming garbled feedback. This beam of black, world-devouring electricity bores a hole right through you as the side ends with a skullcrushing mass of metalscrape and droning guitar buzz.

Side three starts off with a gauzy cloud of bell whirr and guitar hum, a lush meditative drone spreading out into an abyss of processed piano tones, which turns into an entire side of grating black ambience and claustrophobic Lustmordian dread. The fourth and final side unleashes another roaring jet of black electricity, a massive buzzsaw drone that undulates and writhes, shifting in weight and density as it elongates across the entire side of the cassette, a huge suspended column of distorted guitar and synth rising skyward. As Oran approaches the end, though, it becomes more chaotic and frenzied, blow-out melodic loops and distorted percussion all rising up in a furious maelstrom of ecstatic melodic noise.

This is the first time that I'd heard Clew Of Thesaus, but Oran has made this one of my new favorite industrial/ambient outfits, and anyone into heavy, chthonic post-industrial ambience should check this out. The two tapes come in a vinyl case with creepy, high contrast black and red artwork, and is released in a limited edition of just sixty copies.