Forget whatever reservations you might have about the name of this tape or its PVC-obscene packaging from Bum Tapes, a brand new UK imprint putting out some beautifully constructed tiny runs totally under anyone?s radar. This second release on a label other than his own from the Midlands underground voyant is as good a seismic pool as any of his trashed echo-laden vocal + guitar hurlings, and contains some of his most touching moments and as well as the more damaged. Starts off like some disco from hell, has this weird appropriated deviant-pop vibe running off it, maybe some of the first half is like Lamborghini Crystal with 20 more distortion pedals?! Anyway, then we?re into the scythes and strokes of Chainsaw as the tape descends further into the pits of mulched up 4-track blues. The instrumentation here has clearly developed from earlier gems like Teenage Gun Babies, with keyboard scrawls and pitch-shifted phantoms screaming into the already deranged mix and creating a whole new sick-cake. There?s ecstasy here too ? the moment of creation destroyed almost as soon as it?s given birth, and a resignation to that effect that constantly displaces the music and shifts it back into itself. The approach is matched by the form it takes, a kind of indeterminacy of noise: this sometimes beautiful mutating feedback creating myriad patterns of found melody. Then the money-shot, an earache of no-wave belligerence featuring some of Chainsaw?s numerous weirdo collaborators, what turns out to actually be a haven of semi-recognisable form before the tape dissolves itself once more into over-gained peaks of blue-black light and weird sub-atomic pop melodies of love songs lost in the dark.
Side B contains a distortion-laden keyboard melody over-brimming with crackle and fuzz, sounding wonderfully like the bastardized credit music from some ancient VHS animation about dragons and swords and demons, and then this trips further into primordial lakes of molten-fuzz and delayed-to-infinity vocals trying to pierce the static sky above/beneath. The melodies are then stretched out in slow-motion and spread across the whole ghostly wavelength of two or three pulsating chords, till the whole thing ends as abruptly as if it didn?t even know it had begun. Exhilarating noise, a totally killer tape, and proof that Chainsaw is gaining with every new release. 9/10 -- Evan Rhodes (10 October, 2007)