Review: Pothamus ‘Abur’
Described in the PR blurb as ‘A maelstrom of music and metaphysics, a crushing conduit for connection, contemplation and catharsis’, ‘ritualistic sludge-metal juggernauts’ Pothamus return with their sophomore full-length album Arbur. When your bio throws around words like ‘metaphysics’, ‘esotericism’ and ‘ritualistic’, you know as a listener that this isn’t going to be some lightweight affair or bright, sunny pop-punk.

The Belgian sludge/post-metal three-piece have been refining their sonic assault on the senses since 2013. Based in the northern city of Mechelen, between Brussels and Antwerp, the band have been channelling droning repetition and tribal rhythms to create a blend of meditative percussion that seeks to incorporate Eastern philosophies and Western spirituality in the search for transcendental knowledge.
Depending on your mileage, that could sound like a lofty goal or carry the faint whiff of pretension. However, if you strap into the experience, then Pothamus are a unique and bold attempt to create something stunning and cerebrally challenging.
The band made their debut with the stunning Raya back in 2020. A culmination of three years of hard work writing and recording that built on their earlier sought-after releases to earn them lavish praise and comparisons to the likes of Amenra, The Black Heart Rebellion, and Heilung with their ability to create trance like soundscapes.
In the follow-up, Arbur, the band seeks to take the stepping stones they laid down on their stunning bow and create an odyssey of epic proportions that stand as the spiritual successor to Raya whilst continuing their ever-evolving quest for meaning.
The album begins with the pulsating rhythms of Zhikarta, a dissertation on the exploration of seeking wisdom and uncovering deep truths. The pounding syncopation rises out of echoing effects that become a knocking like the relentless drip of water.
A deep, cavernous low-end produces a bowel-shaking rattle before the atmospheric vocals rise and float above the swirling sounds to give a Jesu or Author & Punisher style semi-industrial drone vibe that sounds like the gathering of a storm. Mechanical clashes merge with the tribal dancing of the drums, forging a hypnotic sway that is both laser-focused and all-consuming, as guttural rumbles and rasping screams entwine.
an immersive journey that seeks to challenge your understanding of the power of music…
Ravus switches the tempo of the pounding to a more military style march as the duelling vocal styles of drummer Mattias Van Hulle and Sam Coussens (vocals and guitar) twist with a mixture of melody and blackened ferocity. Over the steady metronome, Pothamus build in a glacial study of pace and refinement, each refrain slowly morphing almost imperceptibly. Even when they pause the proceedings with moments of high drama, the track is layered with dense textures, like the mournful singing or the reverberating effects that smother with majestic intensity.
Another rising swell of electronics heralds the start of De-varium. As the gnawing feedback grows, another tick-tock-like beat underpins the choral, aria-style intonations. The oppressive weight of the hammering beats and feral screams increase before the track becomes a seething, writhing powerhouse awash with grinding, throbbing basslines courtesy of Michael Lombarts. The relentless cycles of the rhythm and the transcendental airiness of the effects give it a deep psychic resonance.
Savartuum Avur starts with an off kilter beat and a whining loop before the deep thump of the drums and clanging of the bass brings warmth, but not necessarily comfort. The muted growls once again offer contrast to the flighty soaring of the harmonies. The immersive nature of the mental state the music seeks to enact is disrupted as Pothamus turn the screw on the heaviness of the track, but not in a violent way. The slide from psychedelic trance to the unsettling power and menace is also subconscious, like the threat of danger appearing at the edge of a dream.
Ykavus starts like a skipping record. Over the whine of feedback, picked notes dance lightly around the stretched-out vocal lines. Soothing and mellow in the aftermath of the barrage that has gone before, it feels like the eye of a storm, still and calm, but at any moment, the maelstrom could rise again. The band describes it as the soundtrack of a ritual and with the stripped back nature being constructed, for the most part, around an Indian drone synth surpeti and the dual vocals it should, on paper, be the most ethereal track on Arbur, and yet feels somehow the most intense.
Finishing with the title track, Pothamus save the most epic length entry until the end. Once again opening with powerful rhythmic toms and the waif-like clean vocals, the band seek to draw the listener into the same mindset of latter-day Tool or label mates The Ocean as they lay the groundwork for an immersive journey that seeks to challenge your understanding of the power of music.
When the band transition into the heavier, more complex passages, Arbur rings with a powerful intent that draws together all the aspects of the journey they have taken us on to bring together something that feels triumphant but hungers for more.
At the heart of Arbur, both the song and the album, lies an understanding of the fragility, the complex nature of the human soul and the desire to search for meaning in the vastness of the universe. Whilst the world seemingly turns inward to isolationism and shuns the discovery of enlightenment, the trio seek to chart the interconnectedness and wonder of the universe through this studied sonic palette.
As I said at the beginning, what you want from a musical experience may differ, but if you are of the mindset to surrender yourself and get lost in this powerful exploration, you will find it a highly rewarding experience. Pothamus have been slated to play their sophomore album in its entirety at this year’s Roadburn Festival. I can only imagine what a treat that will be for those lucky enough to be in attendance.
Label: Pelagic Records
Band Links: Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden