(Mask Of The Slave)

Two tracks on a 3-inch, yet another example of Matjaz Galicic’s explosive noise potential through ridiculously cheap means like rubber balloons, kitchen forks, spoons and electronics. The first: screaming fire, subversive violence, piercing distortion, unclassifiable stridency, compressed steam, ears in jeopardy. No aesthetic of sorts, no declaration of intents; the sounds comes out as it is, and it blows your socks off. The second: disturbed hum, pops, zaps, scratches, interference upon hissing, crackle, pernicious tranquillity, prelude to devastation. Non-biodegradable birds chirping a single ultrasound after being splattered on a grill machine, or – if you prefer – a referee who ingested his whistle and dies suffocated while trying to throw it up. All of this was made with domestic materials, but it sounds like a crazed computer circuit. Move over Merzbow, there’s a new kid in town.

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