A couple of weeks ago I was sitting in a bar with some friends after we all got off work. I ended up striking up a conversation with one of them about the music that we listen to. My friend jokingly shouted above the bar noise that he and his friend wanted to start a “blackgrass” band. Not quite hearing what he said I leaned in closer and asked him what exactly that was. With a smile he said “a bluegrass black metal band.” Of course I didn’t really pick up on the the fact that he was joking and so I excitedly whipped out my phone to try and play some choice selections from an album that came out two years ago called Kentucky. An album of, you guessed it, bluegrass black metal. The irony of the situation is that I didn’t realize he was joking, and in turn, he thought I was joking when I wasn’t. Although in his defense, bluegrass and black metal are two genres that seem like they couldn’t be farther removed, but thanks to the reclusive artist named Austin Lunn, a.k.a. Panopticon, here we are talking about it.

If Kentucky somehow escaped your radar two years ago then you certainly missed on one of the best and most interesting concept albums I’ve heard in a long time. Now in the best of situations, concept albums can be tricky bastards, but in the worst of situations they can come off as a gimmick. And yet somehow Lunn was able to navigate those tricky waters and create an organic work that not only worked on a purely visceral level, but also sold its concept on heart alone. Its heartbreaking tale of the hardworking mining communities in his native state was made more powerful in the way that Lunn decided to deliver it. Needless to say it was an album that left me eagerly anticipating what he would do next. It would be over a two-year wait for a new album, but with Roads to the North, Panopticon has proven unequivocally that all good things take time.

Opening with the sound of a cold wind blowing through the trees, the crunch of feet in the snow, and the distant howling of wolves, Roads to the North establishes an atmosphere right off the bat that feels very much akin to the Appalachian folk setting of Kentucky. But where Kentucky focused on coal mining communities, Roads to the North feels like it’s abandoned all civilization altogether for a hermetic existence in nature. And just as the album feels like its distanced itself from humanity, Lunn’s music also feels like it’s taking steps away from the heavily bluegrass-influenced music on Kentucky. Although folk music certainly plays a part on Roads to the North, those elements are fewer and far between as the album opts instead for the harsher, darker territory of pure, blistering metal. The tracks are relentless, punishing, and often times push the 10+ minute mark. If he is aligning his music with the unforgiving power of Mother Nature, the fury of his music is spot on. But just as the cold winter slowly melts away revealing the beauty of spring, the segments on Roads to the North that seem the most harsh often give way to moments that end up being the most beautiful music that the album has to offer.

Apparently Lunn wrote and recorded this album during some pretty significant transitional moments in his life. Not only did he make a move from his home in Kentucky to that of Minnesota, but he also became a father. When taking it all into account it makes perfect sense. There is almost a restlessness to this album, where its unmistakeable feeling of movement corresponds to the changes in Lunn’s life. And just as things have changed so much for him, this moment in Panopticon’s timeline feels notably different as well. Roads to the North feels momentous, a mature step forward whose understanding of space, construction, and movement has resulted in an album that feels like a complete journey just waiting to be taken.

When all is said and done, Roads to the North cements Panopticon’s place as not only one of the most original and ambitious projects on the USBM scene, but also one of the most consistently great and criminally underrated. Knowing that Lunn slaved over every detail of this album recording off all its many parts himself (barring guest spots, of course) is nothing short of mind-blowing. And for those who either typically avoid black metal or are cautiously looking for a fitting entry point, Roads to the North works as a fitting introduction by delivering an excellent work of art whose powerful and rough edges are exceeded only by its unabashed beauty. It’s a long and arduous journey to be sure, but the climb up the mountain is made worth it by the breathtaking view from the top.

Roads to the North is available now via the band’s Bandcamp.