Sometimes the gap between structure and noise can seem that little bit closer, acts like Locrian forming tentative unconscious bridges between the two. Clouds roll down through “Burying The Carnival”, billowing buildings like a tsunami pouring through the pageant. Serrated echoes spin past the speakers, Locrian further perfecting their brand of firmly placed brick and mortar slaughter. Both their loop-and-heave guitar shredding and the candour of their reality-rooted atmospheres take equal placing, this side of the cassette balancing both on the limits of unforgiving. Locrian’s music makes its point in beleaguering much of their peer group, maybe there’s something in the air but this piece feels like rolling tanks and the confused brunt of burn-out scrambled radio communications.

“Exhuming The Carnival” is a more liminal piece, its border falling between post-rock’s looser ideas and the warped slow collapse of buildings. Daunting and uninviting with its mood hanging low in the sky, the peals of guitar anchored to earth via silken webs. More of a reconsecration than the sweat, mud and stench of an exhumation – this cassette is well worth digging out. 8/10 -- Scott McKeating (14 January, 2009)