finally got my human hands on this wave dream:
Disc One: "Cancer"
The Onset of Life 1:40
like getting chewed up in a metal grinder while your copy of the testy breakbeats skip on your walkman, your earbuds pushing further into your chipped skull. then metal voice build scream grow.
The New Delirium 1:04
staticky buzzing pulsing shaking your balance the screams are coming from somewhere everything is happening all at once. just noise? strange.
Damage Fractal Series I: Dismantle 2:59
like a metal tape getting caught in your brain and someone trying to pull it like they're starting a lawnmower. ticking and feedback laced with glitchy poison. again, the distant voices seem to insinuate that something human could be taken from this. you just know something's around the corne, and then it ends.
Damage Fractal Series I: Intrusive Imagination 7:20
ok, seven minutes? we have leaky steamy escape for a while. it feels like that headache that you know you have, that you can't get rid of, that makes you smile around people even though all you can think of is the tension between mind and brain. nagging for notice, it screws its way in with the subtlety of a storm surge of tiny metal cockroaches. all of a sudden your ankles are gone and your legs are stuck, and you look up from your feet and see the wave in the distance, the slow growl surrounding you. this is stress. and then it hits. this is pain.
Damage Fractal Series I: Incorrect Reassembly 1:59
falling down through a power plant and hitting every wire on the way. shocks bite at you like cold rain. your descent slows and as you hit the large capacitor your body cracks and snaps with electricity.
Bedridden 9:44
this could be an ocean or a desert; it's amazing how similar they sound. a dust storm and a salty spray are remarkably alike, when you think about it. turns out this was interference: an ocean of radiowaves or a storm of digital beams. then a mad fiddle begins, with oscillating tones and that constant drone. no one wants silence behind them; think of a murderer in the night. a drone tells you there's something there. well, nothing. i'm almost disappointed when the shallow, taut melody sways in and that low-note picked bass makes it seem like a played, planned 'song' [an alien word so far].
(In) Voluntary Emotional Response 9:29
what is this? steve reich picked up a six string and started jamming on a beluga whale apparently. phases? no, it's not quite that planned. what we have here could be called 'post-delay', where everyone's favourite genre get's their echo groove going for that epic taste.
oh wait
distortion and strings now? what a change of face (pace?). this is quite good especially since it could have ruined it. emotional slow-down, man. just feel the music and the world will melt over you... you know? that kind of thing. it certainly does not work every time. at least there's not dead priest preaching overtop. i'll add my own sermon, thank you very much. really fantastic (no i will not say soundscape) atmosphere. like watching a city being eroded and leveled through the viewfinder of a videocamera. it all grinds down.
Disc Two: "Cancer: Decay"
Bedsores (For G.W.B.) 1:43
stone shifting, the grind picks right back up. something is being opened... or is it breathing? (a scary thought). well, it certainly is more than a rock now, voices, tuvan-like and rippling. a distorted scream: that's always good...
Involuntary Physical Response 12:38
tonal entropy, acoustic shuffling. a definite nervous feeling coming out from the sounds. not quite unsettling, but anxious. i picture a small, wily android fooling with his instruments, finding the way around the musical world for the first time. he sure is a violent one. drums like gunshots and then someone suffering (?), and then an oppressive racket, and then more drone. what is going on? i guess the music killed it's maker somehow, and it wasn't pleasant. more acoustic shuffling; the scene in a movie before the opening of a door. DON'T DO IT! you want to yell, but the tension [eh] mounts [ehhh].
ok, so the android is still here. is this a battle between machine and machine? the spastic burst of the android versus the powerful build of suspense. it makes sense, and it's awesome. a sleek narrative, and a rivet(haha)ing ride. words i shouldn't use here: dichotomy, struggle, duality, duel [no, come on, you're better than that]. i wonder who wins? wet footsteps or ticking? ominous either way.
Damage Fractal Series II: Smear Contradicting Elimination 6:12
oh come on, you had me. YOU HAD ME. don't lose me here with your melodrama... yes, turn off the amp, bring in the glitch, AND TURN THAT MICROPHONE OFF! you don't belong here, obviously. the drums should not be hit with sticks, it doesn't fit. don't bring the trees into it, there are no trees here, and certainly no hands to wield them. go away!
when the children are done smacking the hollow drums and breaking their computers tell me, i've had enough. ahh, it seems like the heart machine it showing no vitals. very good.
what am i saying? these are people doing this. people in studios. people with an artistic vision. artists! you're lucky they let you escape for this long.
i guess i can give them their art, if they give it to me.
Damage Fractal Series II: Insalubrity Serves Me 3:39
a choir?? more strings?? i've seen this before--in every horror movie in the last ten years--but let's see what they [it?] do with it. hmm, sawcrash digital mumble gargled garage rock guitar noise. "irrationality". do they need to explain this? can they?? i mean, i get it: "this album is desolate, it makes you rethink things, get all serious... etc.". hmm.
The Extraction of Delicate Tissue 1:28
machinegun rapidfire digital knives. chopped up within itself. fluttering? hahahaha, yeah right. now some far away industry moanings, wet, dark, you-know-the-drill.
Damage Fractal Series III: Cylindrical Bereavement Summarizing Its Orientations 7:33
countdown... blast! shiver, shake, skid, stitch (?), shoot, stutter, and repeat. hypercollage. imagine a satellite interception of our transmissions and playing them real quick: a summary of recording (well, admittedly industrial. we'll say it's selective interception). a biased view of music. archival in a rush. hiss, decayed tape.
Temporarily Dissolving Into Plasma During a Moment to One's Self [forever]
after what you've just put me through, you expect an emotional response?
am i talking to an album?
am i talking to myself?
yes, both
who was that?!
i am bioentropic fractal.... . . . . . . . . . . . . .
haha no, you can't write like that, leave those types of reviews to the talented ones. just pretend you did a good job and listen to some godspeed. just get over those five minutes after you finish this album and think sublimely, 'wait, so if i were to suppose that man is more than just a dying thing, but a creative, inherently destructive clone spiraling outwards into civilizations, societies, and ultimately consciousness. polluting the nonexistent world with sentience, when nothingness would have left us with much more than being here ever will', look to your left at your dormroom door and right to your cellphone and ask yourself do you really care? and then finally, can you?.
maybe when you grow and lose this record and everything it could have meant to your dangerously swaying mind, you can know it's thesis.
but i'm writing this, aren't i?
haha, i guess so. so am i.
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so am i
so am i so am i
so am i so am i so am i
so am i so am i so am i so am i so am i
so am i so am iso am i so am i so am i so am i
so am i so am i
so am i so am i so am i
so am i so am i so am i so am i so am i
so am i so am iso am i so am i so am i so am i
so am i so am i
so am i so i am. so am i
so am i so am i so am i so am i so am i
so am i so am iso am i so am i so am i so am i
so am i so am i
so am i so am i so am i
so am i so am i so am i so am i so am i
so am i so am iso am i so am i so am i so am i
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