First, a drone of static is faintly heard in the background. Then, layers of hisses and buzzes are sparingly added one after the other while a skeletal, chopped-up electronic beat barely detaches itself from this discreet mass of sound.
And suddenly, there?s that annoying sound that cell phones make when an incoming call passes through the speakers? Yet, each time that noise resurfaces, it is carefully controlled like some sort of guitar feedback ? the sound of modern life being transfigured, acting as much as a sound generator as a possible commentary on our most current means of (mis)communication.
By the 6th minute, some distant/ muffled female vocals can be heard (via the cell phone), announcing the changes to come. From that moment onwards, a saturated motif gradually appears and becomes amplified to the point where it fills the entire acoustic space. As the skeletal beat re-enters the picture, the overall sound gets more and more intense and one feels compelled to give in to this surge of ecstatic ethereal noise.
Towards the end of its course, this mini-industrial symphony decides to take on a more introspective side though. As more and more hisses are added/ subtracted/ stretched to their outer limits, the flow of sounds manages to turn your senses around ? through a subtle use of ?ghost? noises ? just before ending on an abrupt, exhilarating note.
As brief as it is intense, this intriguingly-packaged (paint-sprayed small-case) 3? CDR (courtesy of the always amazing Carbon Records) is highly recommended to all those who love to experience music as a continuously disturbed, yet ecstatic flow of sound. A true shot of sonic adrenalin and a hell of a great record to come out of blue/ into the void. 9/10 -- Francois Hubert (27 December, 2006)