The three anthems which blessed the band's original demo are all here in their entirety along with six new pieces of Ne Obliviscaris' abstract designs. To suit the needs of the uninformed, what Ne Obliviscaris does is rather unorthodox compared to the strange adventures of progressive bands like Opeth, To-Mera, or Ihsahn, for instance. They semi-frequently throw everything from intense tremolo picking—characteristic of Emperor or other black metal groups—to jazzy bass interludes and violin solos (and a LOT of them) into a giant shredder and glue the remnants together. As one should expect, most of the sonnets are exceptionally long—most running near or past the ten-minute mark—and embrace a multitude of diverse concoctions. Pinpointing an exact faction that they identify with at the end of the day, however, is impossible; Ne Obliviscaris truly established a bulletproof frontier to work with.

Their exquisite novels are consequently phenomenal fragments of this progressive landscape—not progressive in the sense that the whole album reflects technicality, but instead the total conglomeration of ideas present. Ne Obliviscaris’ vocal frontier, for instance, involves a harsh vocalist and Tim Charles’ clean voice; both are, as expected, adequate and fitting for the record's backbone. Together with the duo of throats, Ne Obliviscaris makes use of almost everything. I find myself enjoying the ravenous riffing of "Tapestry of the Starless Abstract" and the opening instrumental portion of "Forget Not" the most, which both make superb use of the violin. The other tunes are all based around the same postulate, yet the enthralling showcase of individualism within each never dries up or fails to connect the album cohesively.