Industri-drone-noise duo, ah you know how this goes: an array of clarion electric frequencies, the buzzes, the squeals, the incessantly synthesized ooos n ahhs, the esoteric rumblings; entrenched in trepidation all the while. Although this one does bear a disturbingly captivating demeanor, and I enjoy its personal flourishes: the door knocks, the well-timed sinister bass-thuds, flashes of static-attacks and crowd-racket. Highlight opener "On Its Double" features desperate voices coming from every direction spouting unidentifiables and everyday mundanities turned cryptic slogans ("timing/presentation is everything", "cigarette case placed next to water glass", various actions involving the mouth/upper AND lower lip, etc.), and I wish what comes after was more into the idea of orally following suit. Stolidity gradually grows, momentum is ultimately lost, some sort of unsettling awe remains steadfast.
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