Worm Monolith returns with Katalyst, the long-awaited sequel to 2018’s self-titled concept album. Katalyst is the second part of the voyager trilogy that began last year, and with a running time of nearly 100 minutes, is a no holds barred noise assault that both picks up where the self-titled album left off, and also breaks new ground. This concept album features a brand-new story, snappier production quality, and thirteen brand new tracks; it’s not for the faint of heart.
2018’s self-titled album told the story of a lone space traveler, lost in space and trying to navigate. Katalyst brings us back to civilization, but the world is uncertain. Fear abounds, and no one is safe. Our journey this time follows Barbara, a woman who has been thrust into a broken world; a world that she can no longer trust.
In the autumn of 1965, Barbara’s husband discovered an aged Haitian codex buried in the piles of a small bookstore while passing through Port-au-Prince on his way home from a business trip. During the course of the next year, he became increasingly withdrawn, often shutting himself in his study for days at a time, pouring through the text over and over again, until…
One night, when Barbara awoke in a pool of her own sweat, and there he was, standing over her with the old book in hand, chanting unintelligible incantations. Candlelight danced around the room, casting strange shadows that writhed like phantom limbs. Barbara had already been planning to leave, and this was it; this was the final straw and the veiled opportunity she had been waiting for.
She grabbed the bag that she had packed and bolted from the house, but the incantation, the katalyst for what happened next, had already been completed.
Barbara fled the country; she wanted to escape to a place where she could never be found. And it was in the countryside of a small village in the eastern part of the world that she finally took refuge in a paltry monastery. She has called this place home for the better part of the past two years. On an autumn night, not unlike the night that Barbara’s husband had first found the book, the threat began. Barbara was in her quarters, sitting by the window and listening, as she always did, to the monks as they were engaged in an ancient chant. Then, in the distance, she heard an explosion.
The plumes of smoke began to melt into the atmosphere, and Barbara watched in astonishment. Mouth agape, her eyes picked up on movement outside her window. Creatures. In the dimness of the evening, creatures were making their way into the monastery, led by what looked to Barbara like a cross between a walking skeleton and an organ grinder, the kind she used to see on the boardwalk when she was young. The sounds that emanated from his instrument were otherworldly, and his laugh sounded like broken tape as he turned the crank. Without a second thought, Barbara took a deep breath, and then turned and ran as fast as she could. She ran out of her dwelling, and off into the surrounding countryside.
Barbara just needs to do one thing: survive. And this is her story.