The German word “Vexier” is an odd term. It’s likely derived from the Latin “vexare” which means to plague or irritate, but it’s used in some dialects to describe a puzzle. For instance, “Vexierbild” is the term used for a double image: an innocent illustration that hides a more sinister image (the best example being “All Is Vanity” by C. Allen Gilbert).

With that in mind, it’s a more than apt title for the sophomore release of Swiss doomgazers E-L-R. The band itself is so mysterious that I can’t find any information about the members besides their initials (there are plenty of photos of the band, but they aren’t labeled). It is a deceptive album that has the initial impression of being rather subdued, but closer inspection reveals a far darker album lurking beneath the surface—not unlike a Vexierbild.

As a staff writer for Tuned Up, I listen to a lot of music. Like…a lot of music. In any given week, I might write as many as ten reviews of new albums—and that doesn’t include anything I didn’t like enough to cover. It’s forced me to have a major overhaul of my buying habits: I used to buy everything I liked. I don’t have enough money to buy five records a week though. Even if I did, I’m running out of room, and I’ve already built a full wall of shelves.

I actually bought this record twice. I preordered it shortly after listening to it, then canceled the order the next day. But something about this record kept calling back to me: I found myself returning to it several times in the following weeks, until I finally gave in and ordered it again.

The music is heavy and expansive while remaining almost tranquil. You can imagine hearing the guitars echoing through their native Swiss Alps as they shift between atmospheric drones and sheets of heavy distortion. The drums pound with the devotion of an ancient pagan tribe while the female vocals chant along in completion of the ritual. Much of the album is instrumental, but even where there is singing, it feels more like background vocals with the lead track muted, content to let the massive instruments take the lead. The one exception is the guest vocals on closer “Forét.” I even asked my wife what it sounded like to her, and she said, “chill metal, maybe a bit of an Explosions in the Sky vibe.”

The foreboding serenity that arches over most of the album is a bit of a Trojan Horse though: their midtempo doomgaze is sometimes joined by elements of more extreme metal, like the generous helping of black metal in “Three Winds,” “Fleurs of Decay,” and “Forét.” “Seeds” also has some angry spoken-word vocals (if you’re thinking rap you’re way off) before the almost angelic vocals. Even besides the more overt aggression, the way they play even the more patient passages is menacing.

Yet even at its darkest moments, it retains a ferocious beauty, like the imposing majesty of the Matterhorn or the awe-inspiring power of an avalanche. It reminds me of similarly patient doomgazers Palehorse/Palerider mixed with Alcest’s more aggressive moments. Which is basically a perfect storm if you ask me. It’s a record that is as pensive as it is punishing while remaining consistently gorgeous.