A surreal 3-track sensory-plunge into a capacious black hole where the only indigenous activity consists of flute+clarinet duking it out with laser-blip synth-tronics in an avant-garde then-meets-now interpretation of classical. While jazzily oscillating between uber-precise synchronization stunt-work, haywire circuitry-din, good ol' fashioned dead air, and all-sides vagabond noodling, it unceasingly conveys the weighty dread that this musical form has fostered for centuries. Fortunately the squawks -- nay, demented-duck mating calls -- should help ease the tension a bit. Or increase it, either way. A 20-minute monster-ender is aimless+soporific when compared to its predecessors, but does make for a relatively halcyon ascent back into some conceivable semblance of reality.
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