Treedeon – Lowest Level Reincarnation

Treedeon_Vinyl_test

Surely bred in the depths of hell, Lowest Level Reincarnation is the ultimate seduction. Like a Hieronymus Bosch painting, the new album from German noise abusers Treedeon is a visceral kaleidoscope of vibrant addictive aural colours and inescapable temptations within a landscape of sonic and emotional torment. It is bestial, it is carnally intimidating, and it is an all-consuming swamp of savage confrontation but most of all it is one exhilarating trespass of the senses.

Treedeon emerged in 2012 when vocalist/guitarist Arne Heesch and vocalist/bassist Yvonne Ducksworth linked up after the almost simultaneous demise of their respective bands Ulme and Jingo de Lunch. Initially Treedeon was an acoustic proposition and made its live debut at 2012’s South Of Mainstream festival filling in for the by now disbanded Ulme. At this point Christian “Boomer” Böhm linked up with the duo, pledging himself as “the missing link” as he offered to play drums in the band. As songs were written and created, leading to an early demo, there was no escaping the heavier voracious element fuelling their sound, fury audiences soon heard at events like the infamous Roadburn Festival, where the band played as part of Exile On Mainstream’s 15 year anniversary showcase. The digital unveiling of the demo swiftly brewed up attention and buzz around the Berlin trio though it was a mere taster of more corrosively impressive things to come. Recorded at Studio Wong in Berlin last November, Lowest Level Reincarnation sets a striking marker for not only Treedeon but doom/sludge spawned noise punk in general.

The eight track sonic tsunami begins with Love Turns Liquid and immediately has ears and attention on board as the punch of Böhm’s premeditated slow swings rock the senses. It is not hostile bait he lays down but it is imposing and highly anthemic as each incessant jab awakens a keen appetite which is swiftly fed further by the grouchy voice of Ducksworth’s bass and the abrasing causticity of the guitar. Hooks are already flirting from within the building tempest of noise, leaping out on the subsequent sonic smog as Heesch’s grizzled vocals croon expressively and angrily. The rhythmic persistence of the eight minute plus track creates an inescapable trap for instinctive and primal needs whilst the doom soaked crawl of the song simply ignites ears and imagination; the encounter the perfect blend of erosive persuasion and addictive invention.

The following Blankapitation similarly attacks on two fronts, its rhythmic and grooved taunting a commanding contagion whilst the thick sludginess of the guitar’s enterprise is a suffocating and alluring raw embrace. It is the vocals of Ducksworth, who takes the lead this time, which strikingly ignites the track though, her delivery pure punk with an attitude to match. It is a thrilling contrast to the highly pleasing caustic attack of Heesch in the previous song and in his backing here, a creative aural stabbing of ears at times from the lady and a constant roar of belligerence.

Satan’s Need takes over next and within seconds consumes the senses in a tempest of fiercely heavy riffs and matching intensive rhythms, all bound with inflamed heavy grooves. The two singers share the track, duelling rather than dueting across its ravenous and exhausting turbulence. It has a harsh and acerbic canvas but also reveals an underlying swing to beats and grooves which does not temper the tempestuous nature of the encounter but certainly makes its punishment bewitchingly palatable.

Through the superb Extinction with its a rhythmic tempting, which is almost like a call to arms for body and emotions, and a sinisterly hued grooving, and the snarling Wendigo, band and album only heap on further corruptive influence and pleasure. The first of the two is the kind of flirtation you know will only lead to destruction but with the deepest carnivorous bass growl and tart grooves, not forgetting exceptional vocal endeavour, the track is the master of lustful submission. Its successor again embraces a stronger punk rancor in its erosive sonic squall. Ducksworth vocally is a fiery temptress and with basslines predatory confrontation as Heesch creates a warlike maelstrom of antipathy with voice and riffs, the song is an animus which flows in all ways into the equally venomous and scarring Venus With Teeth. There is no shelter from its sonic and intimate enmity or from the transfixing rhythmic craft and enticing of Böhm. It writhes like a plague ridden scavenger, spilling and spewing sonic spite and magnetic invention with every intensive and exciting twist.

The album’s title track worms into the psyche next, its insidious crawl of sound and malevolent emotion encroaching ears like a tar thick virus, consuming every pore whilst immersing the senses and thoughts into the darkest pit of depressive and oppressive toxicity. The song is spellbinding, an infestation of sound and intent you only want to devour more of, even if it provides the longest and darkest twelve minutes of your life.

Lowest Level Reincarnation is completed by the outstanding Terracide, another imaginative torrent of crippling and gripping rhythms aligned to incendiary grooves and impressive vocals from both Ducksworth and Heesch. That imagery of a Bosch composition again seems to fit the track, its presence and premise a sonic opening of hell’s pits.

Treedeon is that nightmare you can never be rid of but truthfully you look forward to, its challenge and adventure a dark and dangerous endeavour but cathartic and seriously rewarding. The same applies to the magnificent Lowest Level Reincarnation, an album sure to expose one intensively exciting prospect to the fiercest spotlights.

Lowest Level Reincarnation is available now via Exile On Mainstream digitally and on CD/vinyl @ http://www.mainstreamrecords.de/shop with its US release in April.

https://www.facebook.com/Treedeon

RingMaster 12/03/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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BulBul – Hirn Fein Hacken

EOM57_PromoWallet

Ok I will admit I had not come across Austrian band Bulbul before being handed their new album Hirn Fein Hacken, a release which sees them returning after six years from not sure where, but from here on in after the intensive psyche examination presented by their latest, a backward investigation is sitting high on the list of musts. An insatiable and mischievous, not forgetting criminally addictive, exploration of every delicious element you can imagine to rile, ignite, and seduce the very core of the mind and senses, Hirn Fein Hacken is quite simply sonic irreverence and quite brilliant.

The first sign of Bulbul we can find is the release of their self-titled debut album in 1997, Bulbul a one man project of guitarist/vocalist Raumschiff Engelmayr at the time. With Derhunt linking up on bass, the band released second and again self-titled album in 1999, via as the first via Trost Records. Drummer Ddkern joined not long after as the band continued to experiment with sound, imagination, and their fans minds through their third and fourth albums in 2003 and 2005 respectively, again under the same monikers as the others. 2006 saw fifth album BlllBlll unleashed whilst the Patrick Pulsinger produced 6 was uncaged via Exile On Mainstream two years later to strong acclaim and attention. Hirn Fein Hacken is as mentioned the band’s return, again via EOM, and takes little time in slipping under the skin of the senses and psyche as well as giving the passions an irresistible creative toxicity to feast upon.

The Vienna hailing band’s influences according to the press release include the likes of The Kinks, Cpt. Beefheart, Rhys Chatham, Django Reinhart, Abner Jay, Fats Domino, and Bob Dylan, but as the album seduces with its ingenious seductive dementia we would suggest artists such as Kontrust, De Staat, Yello, and Fantomas as a starting place. Opener Fire offers a wide groan before bringing all of its thought and energy into a concentrated rhythmically driven nagging of ears and senses. Riffs gently niggle as the bass provides a fuzz kissed tonic to greedily swallow whilst all the while strong vocals dance over the bait with devilry in their tone and relish on their lips. The song continues to swagger and weave across the imagination, enterprise of the guitar as boisterously naughty as it is creative and the bass an irresistible growling incitement impossible to tear emotions away from.

It is a magnetic start which has little difficulty in making slaves of thoughts and passions, leaving the following Uhu a willing canvas to play with. An electro simmering ebbs and flows initially, its voice slightly smothered but eager to break free to greater clarity. That aspect is taken by the funk bred grooves and suasion of the guitar matched by the vivacious vocal delivery. The song smoulders, never lifting its gaze or energy from a wanton sway of its body and sex infused melodies. Not as dramatic as its predecessor but equally as enthralling, the song makes way for I hea eh scho lång nix mea, a song which like the first secures its initial conquest through repetitive coaxing before exploring an industrially inspired realm with clanking tubes, concussive temptations, and unpredictable almost maniacal imagination. The track pushes the earlier thoughts of De Staat to the fore, the song a cousin of their Sweatshop track without the same feverish urgency. It is a glorious trap for the passions warming them up for the even greater infestation to follow.

That virulence comes in the shape of the ridiculously addictive and epidemically infectious instrumental Kanzla. From its first second, guitars respectfully grind against the ears whilst the bass again adds a barracuda like tone to the abrasing lure of the song. The rhythmic restraint with punctuating twists of the drums only reinforces the delicious irritancy as the track persists with its rub through sonic rises and falls. The dip into a brief sultry teasing only inflames the senses more before the track reverts to its feverish meshuga of a tango, intermittently interrupting its blaze with further inventive twists.

Both the psychotic Fisole, where instruments are abused and random items employed for a warped bedlamic cacophony, and the noise rock taunting of Quicksand keep the passions breathless, the second of the two finding an element of Melvins and even Pere Ubu to its spellbinding guitar sculpted temptation. As impressively thrilling as they are the pair are only the appetiser for the pinnacle of the album, Gurdy. The track takes a breath before cantering eagerly through the ears, spicy short guitar strokes and rumbling riffing spurred on by the darkly sinister vocals and unrelenting rhythms. The track is pure 100% unbudging contagion, every flavour, trait, and inventive bait pure addictiveness. Imagine Mike Patton, Pryapsime, and Queens Of The Stone Age engaged in an illicit enterprise and you have the quite magnificent Gurdy.

Genderman Can provides a raw punk fuelled rampage next, vocals and bass antagonistic whilst the guitar boils the air with a blues tasting sonic toxin which again is only good for health and passions, especially its closing warped and sizzling smothering of the senses. From here the album relaxes its energetic stance to unveil a pair of slowly burning treats. Bomb comes first, its opening air awash with the fiery country blues flames which were hinted at on its predecessor. With pulsating beats and a psychedelic ambience drifting over song and listener whilst the vocals like the music flickers within a seductive fire formed around the narrative, the track is a mesmeric enchantment littered and primed with broad intrigue and unruly invention, but within a relatively sobering confine.

The closing A To Beans is just aural sex, a slow hip swerving seductress with smooth rhythms, a throbbing intent, and a sinister vocal invitation which should be avoided but impossible not to embrace as deeply as the noir blessed sounds. It is a ridiculously captivating end to a quite sensational release. As these last words are written contemplation of how BulBul avoided our attention is loud and incriminations rife, but it is hard to imagine previous releases being better than Hirn Fein Hacken so maybe this was the right time to find the band. We are heading back into their history as you read and suggest you do the same once you have been infected by this mad beauty.

http://www.bulbul.at/

http://bulbul.bandcamp.com/album/hirn-fein-hacken

10/10

RingMaster 08/04/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Beehoover – The Devil And His Footmen

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The caustic beauty which snarls and permeates every pore within The Devil And His Footmen shows that Beehoover in the three years between albums have not lost any of their corrosive charm and raw passion. The new eight track album is a cacophonous blaze of rock which draws on a wealth of flavours and noise bred enterprise building upon and expanding beyond the stoner doom presence of 2010 album Concrete Catalyst. Never resting and perpetually pushing the senses and thoughts of the listener, the album is Beehoover at their niggling best.

The German duo of vocalist/bassist Ingmar Petersen and drummer/vocalist Claus-Peter Hamisch, defy or straddle genres depending how you look at it with their rhythmic invention and exploration, their conjuring as seductive and narrative friendly as any line-up of instruments. The pair from Esslingen formed the band in 2003 initially with the intent to have a ‘regular’ set up in the band, but unable to find musicians able to compliment the carnivorous unique bass sound of Petersen  they remained a the duo and released the A Mirror is a Window’s End EP in 2005. Debut album The Sun Behind The Dustbin followed two years later before Heavy Zooo in 2008 and then Concrete Catalyst especially started an intensive hunger for the band’s sounds in the widest appetites. As those before The Devil And His Footmen is released via Exile on Mainstream and provides a new ruin of noise which is impossible to refuse.

The steep thick walls of Monolith open up the release, bass and drums casting an wonderful unclean breath over the ears. There is no EOM57_PromoWalletavoiding the pungent dark feel of the sound and its shadows, the guttural groan of the bass and crisp cage of rhythms unbothered by light and sun yet creating an engagement which is just as hearty if intimidating. The vocals of Petersen equally have no caressing arms to explore with but employ a direct and transfixing delivery which does remind of another but escapes recognition. The stoner groove of the song is a potent lure within the rapacious call of the track, and all combined it makes for a towering start to the release.

The following Egoknights and Firearks provides formidable back-up to the opener; it teasing with an almost folky swagger in its chorus which interrupts the riveting grind of the bass and enslaving drum bait, whilst its successor Rooftop moves through an evocative landscape with a reflective centre between extensive bookends of a sludge/ seventies rock mesh. The second of the two does not quite match the heights of the first two but leaves thoughts and imagination alive with their adventure with the pair of musicians sculpting provocative scowling scenery.

Boy vs. Tree instantly hypnotises through a welcoming tribal rhythmic beckoning, an invitation which cores the whole track. Vocals and bass soon colour in between the framework of rhythmic veining from Hamisch, their hues rough and thoroughly compelling. A post punk temptation latches onto the invention as well to add extra entrapment whilst as the song fuels the passions thoughts have a sense of Pere Ubu to certain aspects of the track. The best moment of the album, it is seriously challenged by next up Morning Sun which almost dances around the senses with its snarling tonic of enterprise and flesh stripping acerbic intensity. The riff which sends the track towards its climax just seals the deal for ardour and completes a simply sirenesque call of a song.

Between the tracks there are varied instrumental interludes which reveal their own smouldering breaths to add to the overall venture of the album, all showing the craft and skill of both men in pushing their creative limits with merely bass and drums, though in the hands of these gentlemen merely is nowhere near fair. Through the grizzly predacious Dear Mammoth and the unpredictable and again grouchy My Mixtapes Suck Big Time band and album continues to hold attention and emotions in their hands whilst the closing Honeyhole explores its own unique journey, a slow peaceful welcome building in stature and intensity as it heads adventurously to an explosive climax, heavy grooved rock with doom weight and intensity providing the closing confrontation.

      The Devil And His Footmen is an album which is probably not for everyone; its rawness and tempestuous appetite for noise and honest but abrasive invention food for a certain sort hunger, but once united Beehoover provides a striking and invigorating intrusion you only want more of.

http://www.beehoover.com/

8/10

RingMaster 01/10/2013

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Obelyskkh – Hymn To Pan

pic by_MikeWiener_

pic by_MikeWiener_

With the exceptional 2012 album White Lightnin’ thrusting its creators upon the doom/sludge metal map it is fair to say that anticipation for its successor was hunger driven. The third album Hymn To Pan from German metallers Obelyskkh more than satisfies that craving, offering six expansive sonic and heavily boned consumptions which in some ways continue where their predecessors left off but have evolved and stretched their melodic abrasive teachings to new intense and hue drenched levels. It is an album which steals attention with ease and ignites the imagination for expressive senses scorching ventures, and though after numerous traverses of its impacting soundscape it arguably remains slightly in the shadow of the previous release, the record is a beautifully sculpted and inventively delivered acidic treat.

Founded in 2008 as a project for guitarist Torsten (ex- The Walruz and Vs. The Stillborn-Minded) to explore his ideas and invention with the help of friend Adi, the band nevertheless grew and took on its own expansive destiny. First came the addition of bassist Steffen from seminal German stoner rock band Desert Sun, who after time moved to the drums with multi-instrumentalist David taking over the four stringed exploits. Though still not intended as a fully operational band the release of debut album Mount Nysa in 2011 seemed to trigger something for Obelyskkh. Sold out within three weeks and covered in strongly positive responses, the album was just one fire erupting at the time as a 2-minutes live footage clip of the band on YouTube led the band to be inundated with interest and offers from promoters in Germany and other European countries and subsequently into an exhaustive period of shows and festivals appearances. Last year saw the Billy Anderson (Sleep, Neurosis, Mr. Bungle, Eyehategod, High On Fire, Melvins) recorded White Lightnin’ unleashed to mass acclaim and fervour. It was a startling release which brought new blood and flavour to the doom/stoner/sludge scene, though as with the new album it offered plenty more varied appetisers for the passions too.

The second album through Exile On Mainstream, Hymn To Pan is an even more aggressive and cutting encounter compared to the last, EOM064_coverRGBits breath bordering a battle cry and its intensity warlike though equally the depth of melodic temperance and emotive depths are as evocative and enthralling as ever. The title track dawns with a morning song of birds and fresh air before horns call the attention and physical intent of the world. Slowly awakening with rhythms stretching their energy and invitation, the track soon has sinews fully flexed with riffs adding war paint to the experience and mass vocals combining in a feisty union. The sonic colour of the guitars brings greater imagery and intensity to the piece sparking the imagination to add its own potent additional narrative. As mentioned it all feels like an awakening to a riveting conflict not only of a violent nature but of a harsh and demanding realm, and makes for a mighty hook into the rest of the album.

The Ravens emerges from the shadows next with a much more predacious attitude and weight to its stalking, riffs oppressive and strikingly heavy as they encase the ear in inescapable menace before allowing a breath to be taken through a reassuring melodic temptation. It is short lived as the band continues their thick doom fuelled tsunami of noise and intensity. The vocals also find a rapacious snarl and intimidation to match the enveloping sound, the unrelenting toxicity of the track veined by seductive melodic teasing and sonic tales. It is a scintillating funereal prowl which offers enough to intrigue and keep things fresh but equally has the restraint to force its triumph deeper with repetition and drone clad beauty.

Littered with telling samples, The Man Within takes mere moments to spark greater ardour, its malevolence of sound and vocal attack fearsome and invigorating. The track has an insatiable rabidity which borders on brutality at times, certainly a ruinous intent, whilst the bass and guitars spin a merciless steel web of sonic and voracious violence within another uncompromising and thrilling rhythmic cage.

From the highest pinnacle of the album forged by the previous two songs, the likes of Heavens Architrave and Horse build upon the already entrenched satisfaction with their individual presences, the first a more merciful embrace rife with a tonic of melodic enticement and great vocal beckoning, though still skirted by the damning rapacity already scarring the senses, whilst its successor from opening with a sample from the movie Warriors, employs a leisurely hunt upon the ear before savagely adding further violation with barbarous hostility. With grooves scorching flesh and the throaty sonic poison seeping through every pore the song is a masterful tempest.

Final track Revelation: The Will To Nothingness is a twenty minute plus behemoth, an evolving beast which is in no hurry to explore its narrative and give the senses any form of peace. A raw and ravaging vehemence from the off with a death spawned growl vocally and musically, the song moves through its own unique and aggravated world. Heightened flames of melodic sultriness and sonic heat coax the imagination in further as they take over the journey before things further twist and change throughout the lengthy soundscape. For personal tastes the track does out stay its welcome in parts and in a condensed state might have made a stronger impact, though equally it could lose the potency it has. It is nevertheless an enriching conclusion to another triumph from Obelyskkh. Admittedly passions are still lit up more by White Lightnin’ to be honest, but Hymn To Pan is undoubtedly one of the finest doom fuelled stoner lit metal exploits this year and more everyone’s full attention.

https://www.facebook.com/TheObelyskkhRitual

8.5/10

RingMaster 05/09/2012

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Obelyskkh: White Lightnin’

Creating slabs of majestic and impactful thunderous doom/sludge metal with the riches of stoner and classic metal oozing from every breath, White Lightnin’ from German metalers Obelyskkh is a mighty and formidable release which ignites primal and deep pleasures within. It is an oppressive weighty avalanche of sonic manipulation with a leaden presence firing up satisfaction and increased adrenaline.

Formed in 2008, Obelyskkh was initially just a vehicle for the ideas of guitarist Torsten (ex- The Walruz and Vs. The Stillborn-Minded), to be explored alongside his friend Adi. It was never the intention to make it a fully operational band but as the addition of Steffen of seminal German stoner rock band Desert Sun joined first on bass before moving to drums and then multi-instrumentalist David on bass, things took off especially in 2011 which saw the release of the well received debut album Mount Nysa which sold out within three weeks of its introduction to the world via now defunct German label Droehnhaus. Alongside this the band found interest in them go viral on the web as from the seed of a 2-minutes live footage cut on Youtube, the band was inundated with interest and offers  from promoters in Germany and other European countries leading the band to an exhaustive time of clubs and festivals appearances. Recorded with Billy Anderson (Sleep, Neurosis, Mr. Bungle, Eyehategod, High On Fire, Melvins) and released via Exile On Mainstream, the new album is now set to place the band to the fore of the thoughts and lips of all genre and metal fans, with its white hot sonic invention and intensive caustic beauty an impressive rub.

The album opens with the deeply mesmeric and senses burning instrumental The Enochian Keys, a piece of composing to scar and blister whilst igniting raptures. The track teases and provokes the ear with a restrained yet greedy groove and smoking guitar riffing as incendiary as the heated ambience wrapping each and every note.

From the deeply magnetic charms of the starter the following Elegy is a more methodical lumbering beast of a track, its intensity as weighty as its elements are raw and abrasive. The guitars scrape flesh with their sonic acidic tones throughout with additional flares of sharp melodic rock enterprise sparking at times whilst the bass and drums powerfully frame the thick tar like atmosphere which envelopes from the start. The vocals add further depth to the track with their guttural urging alongside muscular group harmonies making for another weapon to the malevolent dirge like assault.

The great start is built upon and furthered with the excellent title track and the likes of Mount Nysa and Amphetamine Animal. All in their varied ways a blistering upon the senses through incessant taunts of oppressive might and ear rupturing sounds. The vocal harmonies of the title track are a highlight of the song with their almost Pixies like discord whilst the other pair add a psychedelic progressive lined consumption and corruptive malevolence respectively to the album. The latter is a disturbed maelstrom of constricting intrusions and flailing sonic venom which steals the honours on the whole release, its nasty insidious presence a glorious destruction.

Completed by the ravenous crawl of Abysmal Desert Cavern and the unhinged Invocation To The Old Ones with its wonderful bedlam of textures, atmospheres and sounds, White Lightnin’ is one of the most impressive doom/sludge releases this year. It is a venomous feast which offers another poison and distressing companionship with each listen. Though probably not an album to rest easily within every ear it and Obelyskkh themselves, are one of the most satisfying experiences within the musical year to date.

https://www.facebook.com/TheObelyskkhRitual

RingMaster 09/09/2012

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Darsombra: Climax Community

Climax Community the new album from Baltimore based Darsombra, is a release which involves and fires up every one of the senses whilst igniting the mind and its thoughts into a ride of visions and emotions as twisting and inventive as the sounds forming their soundscape. You can hear, feel, see, and taste the exploratory sounds and enveloping worlds it opens up ensuring that a full immersion into its body is inevitable and welcome.

Darsombra started as a one-man project from guitarist Brian Daniloski (ex- Meatjack and Trephine) before expanding into a duo with the artistry of visual artist Ann Everton. Together their individual imagination and craft has created in the band, an audiovisual music project to impress with sounds and experiences to devour and come alive within. Released via Exile On Mainstream, Climax Community is an epic of extremes. It is meditative and disturbing, beautiful and violating, and stirringly evolving within a persistent tsunami of drone intensity. It brings a clash of points and emotions but with a seamless and worldly presence to provoke and evoke.

The album opens its journey through the earth and its wealth inspired psychedelic transcendental rock experiment with Roaming The Periphery, a track which immediately switches on all the senses with its brewing drone breath and vocal harmonics which leave sonic trails across its sky. The track is a twenty three minute caress/intrusion which leaves no aspect of its heart and of our thoughts untouched. The looming and perpetual shadows which ebb and flow over the piece are a sinister weight amongst scorched incendiary guitar manipulations, whilst their lingering drudge or abrasive scarring soaked in melodic ingenuity, is as heated and cutting as their evolving sonic kisses. It is track to lose oneself within but find oneself too, a stimulation of sound and energies to lay a feast of thoughts and personal images before.

It is a testing listen the opener though never so abrasive and unsettling that a connection is unattainable at any point. The following Green is completely different. It is a brief, in comparison to its predecessor,  acoustic delight which brings a peaceful break to the sonic trek of the album, a time of reflection and taking stock of energies before the final giant of a piece, Thunder Thighs .

An eighteen minute opus leaving with a thirty minute final consumptive drone finale, the piece brings an initial gift of melodic warmth and expressive guitar shimmering. With charged veins of energy the track ignites its atmosphere with an incendiary and sizzling flux of corrosive manipulations, incessant drone, and acidic melodic beauty, and then mesmeric sixties psychedelic fires, their flames exploring greater heights the further the song reaches out. The piece erupts with startling and imaginative expertise and invention throughout as it forges its way towards a hypnotic climax to leave one exhausted and energised.

      Climax Community is a giant of a release and as organic as its theme, a perpetually evolving and growing presence for the ear and far beyond. Arguably it will not be the most comfortable companion for many but for those who join its coarse beauty in flight; it will be one of the most rewarding.

www.darsombra.com

RingMaster 09/09/2012

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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