Caligula is a piece of profound resonance–within its abyssal depths there are multitudes. It’s brilliance is it’s fiercely unique welding of genres, most reminiscent of bands like Oathbreaker or Thou, that blends traditional, almost operatic delicateness that, moment to moment, may swell and rise to colossal heights before breaking to inhuman screams.

Caligula is an experience. In its hour-plus-long journey there is dejection, rejection, pain, supplication, dominance, vulnerability, strength, alienation, hatred, warmth, acceptance…it’s profundity lies in both its attempt to express while wringing its hands at its inability to connect.

Some records are challenging listens. Not in that they are bad, but far from it–that they require effort and will and patience to sit with and understand. Caligula is of surpassing beauty–its heights and depths, ebbs and flows are so captivating that you are overpowered immediately upon sitting down with it. Whether or not you were sitting down with a mind to truly give something a listen or just idly pass the time, you are suddenly swept away–a mote of insignificant existence on a swirling torrent that threatens to bust right through reality. If you can ride the currents the reward is unspeakably moving, but casual listeners may be intimidated by its radiance.