Heavy metal and ambient music might seem to be at odds with one another. One is bombastic and aggressive, seeking to burn down everything around it with pounding drums and distorted guitars. The other is hushed and unassertive, aiming to blend in with the very atmosphere. Brian Eno described it as “music that is meant to be ignored.”

But beautiful things can happen when these two oppositional forces are mixed. Take for instance Horizon, the debut from Seattle’s Museum of Light, which plays with these opposing musical forces with rewarding results.

Museum of Light was specifically born out of an effort to explore beyond the experience of the members’ previous bands. Having played in heavy bands for decades, they’ve often felt pigeonholed by the expectations of anger and violence that came with the territory of heavy metal. The new project exists for the express purpose of mingling big, doomy riffs with “Zen-like washes of ambience,” in defiance of the limitations they felt thrust upon them.

The album opens with a whirring synthesizer drone accompanied by a hypnotist instructing a patient. Before counting down from ten, he says, “any sound outside of my voice will not distract you.” That statement seems to be a sort of prescient microcosm for the album as a whole, because even when bursts of crashing drums and crushing guitars interrupt the billowing ambient passages, it doesn’t feel like an interruption. Rather, the heavier passages feel just as meditative as the moments of stillness.

Obviously, Museum of Light isn’t the only metal band setting heavy and atmospheric elements against one another (that’s practically all I listen to). But where most of their contemporaries stretch their compositions out to ten minutes or more, Horizon manages to fit their heavy meditations into far tighter packages: the longest track is 6:39, and most are under five minutes. However, nothing here feels like it should be stretched out. They’re economical yet expertly paced.

From a technical level, capturing both extremes onto tape without suffocating either is no easy feat. For this, Museum of Light turned to Scott Evans, known for his work with Thrice, Sleep, and Thou—all of which are no strangers to twisting heaviness in interesting ways. With his help, the Seattle trio was able to capture the nuances of each tone as perfectly as you can, which enhances every moment of the record.

In some ways, it reminds me of fellow Seattle metal experimenters Helms Alee, specifically in the way their multi-voiced melodies are molded around the plodding riffs. But Museum of Light is very much their own thing, offering up a unique brand of sludgy, atmospheric heavy metal that is at once fresh and familiar.

Horizon is out June 10th through Spartan Records.

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