Formed in 1999 by the members of art/prog-metal troupe Neurosis to seize control of their own creative palettes, Neurot Recordings has since fostered an impressive roster of boundary-pushing musical misfits from rock's outer fringes. Released to coincide with the label's fifth year in operation, this two-disc compilation (with DVD additions) is an impressive package, serving as a neat entry-point into the label's unrelentingly dark sound-world of doom, gloom and finally, ka-boom.

There's no singularity of genre here, but there's a certain singularity of mood. Indeed, much of this music sounds purpose-written as a portentous year-zero soundtrack to Earth's fiery, screaming death 'neath the foreboding clap of a cumulonimbus swirl. Thereafter, the burned brains and scorch-crusted sex organs of our charred human corpses are pecked at by diseased vultures and gnawed upon by malevolent mutant insects risen from the smouldering embers of the post-everything, soon-to-freeze global wasteland, ravaged by an apocalypse culled from the pathetic failings, worthless sins, and woeful misgivings of all our flawed human impulses, themselves the very root and essence of everything we have ever known -- or will ever know -- as pure, unfettered evil.

That's the vibe garnered from the contributions of Tarantula Hawk, Oxbow, Sabers, Isis, Zeni Geva and Neurosis themselves, at any rate -- all of whom work within suitably disparate yet curiously kindred-spirit templates of sentient rock cataclysmia. Neurosis deliver a stellar Albini-recorded opening with "Burn"'s powerhouse percussion and searing, circular riffery, while Oxbow issue a suitably confrontational, bone-chilling improvisation in the previously unreleased "Time's Up, Sailor Man", in which frontman Eugene Robinson intones, with terrifying post-sex grimness: "In a few minutes, you're gonna have one of two things happen to you... You're gonna have a mouthful of cock, or a mouthful of broken teeth... and cock."

The more voluminous entries are offset by the presence of several altogether more restrained contributions that are no less moody, cathartic or emotionally weighty. Portland post-rock troupe Grails, for example, perform the tense-yet-frail instrumental chill of "Reprieve", The Lotus Eaters deliver a warping, ethereal drone on "Untitled II", Neurosis guitarist Steve Von Till issues the solemn, nocturnal acoustic ballad "Breathe", and Culper Ring (another Von Till project) appear with the somnambulant instrumental "TRK3_4:38", an eerily tearful strings 'n' bloops amble. Even on these relatively calm inclusions, a bleak Neurot aesthetic, a prevalent "mood", somehow bleeds through. If the loud likes of Zeni Geva, Tarantula Hawk, Oxbow et al provide this compilation with its cathartic, apocalyptic rock, then Culper Ring, The Lotus Eaters and Von Till are weeping from the wreckage, surveying the devastation with a grim sadness that groans at their cores.

If this were a deal that needed clinching, the second disc would do it. It features a wealth of fascinating DVD and audio footage, including Josh Graham's epilepsy-inducing video for Neurosis's "Stones From The Sky" -- a bleak, dark and (yup) apocalyptic mesh of crows, nimbus clouds, jump cuts and pylons. If the imagery here seems a little clichéd for what is ostensibly a hard-rock video, fear not; Graham outdoes himself with the stunning, kaleidoscope-meets-Koyaanisqatsi video for Tribes of Neurot's "Duality I". Most enticing of all, however, is a 23-minute excerpt from Music For Adults - A Film About A Band Called Oxbow, in which Eugene Robinson & company's live show is at last captured on film in all its aggressive, terrifying, cock-out glory. There's also a fascinating live performance from VHK (Galloping Coroners) in which a 3000 year-old Hungarian melody is given a transcendent, tribally rhythmic brute-rock makeover.

Nonetheless, if Neurot Recordings 1 so far sounds a little one-dimensional, humorless or none-more-black for an exhaustive two-disc set, then that's too damn bad. The artfulness, innovation and stylistic cohesion evidenced here is enviable to a fault. There's not a single dull moment among the twenty-seven audio/video tracks, and the whole lovingly-compiled package seems hell-bent on giving hard-rock, post-rock, art-rock, doom-core, apocalypse 'n' roll, tribalist rhythms, electronic sound-art and apocalyptic balladry a gloomy shot in the arm. All in all, miserably invigorating stuff.