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| 0.0 | famousghost | April 17th 17 |
Thud. Loop. Digitised c-c-c-clicking. Tell me again. It’s some kind of reinforcement. Momentum means nothing when you’ve got endless repetition. Hereditary patterns and loose-limbed fervour reek of that same sweatiness and greasy filth. Sadly, it lacks the jaggedness//roughness//harshness required to avoid becoming sonic wallpaper, as this kind of thing so often does. It’s a shame, because there’s something odd about the hypnotism of that endless thump-and-clang, and the way that the hollow, airy synths waft about in the background as a kind of haphazardly conceived gap-filler. But it is to be expected of something so calculated and metronomic: industry never favoured variance; character is a palette unnecessary. Suffocation shouldn’t be machinated; space isn’t (?) an increment. Well, perhaps in a literal sense. Do it again. Br~.’’oke//n synthesisers. Loop. Thud.
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