Metal and 1940s film noir rarely cross paths; Coma Noir proves that they should more often. A loose concept album, the fourth disc from post-sludge maestros The Atlas Moth tells of a hard-boiled detective keeping tabs on a shadowy cult. But deep down, the narrative is just an excuse for this Chicago quintet to perpetuate beautifully monochrome imagery and immersive, depressive atmospheres. Despondent wails punctuate darkly downtrodden guitars, with a middling pace making room for a plethora of ear-catching grooves. Once clean and Paradise Lost-like choruses sneak into the fray on Galactic Brain and the avant-garde The Streets Of Bombay, the album cements its status as a quintessential slab of weighty, foreboding doom. Sumptuous rhythmic passages dominate the bulk of Coma Noir, resulting in an admirably fluid yet unwavering experience.