Hailing from Bern, Switzerland, Herpes O Deluxe work with analog electronics, tape loops, old turntables and self-built instruments to raise some serious hell, well symbolized by the many “terrible” sounds featured in this attention-calling release. Progressions of slurred fantasies reach apexes of epic proportion, while deformations of uncatchable memories are left under the rain in stinky alleys. During an eternal symphony for the disapperance of hope, all of a sudden tapes accelerate trying to escape an inevitable deoxidation process, the music reminding us of a forgotten past swallowed by a mangling machine, then an aeroplane is heard taking off from within a desolate church. Electronic ingrowths overwhelm the voices of unsatisfied women who are heading straight to the nearest mental health center; one feels like shouting in despair. Seagulls cry while flying over a polluted river, forgetting their destination and concluding their trip in a furnace’s chimney, accompanied by an amoebic version of Philip Glass. In another track, Donald Duck gets massacred with a chainsaw. In “6″, a caressing frequency seems to appear as an error, but it is soon covered with the dirt generated by deconstructed mechanical bats. The disc’s final part reminds of the glorious times of Cold Meat Industry (Morthound, are you still there?). A great, great album that positively surprised even this old curmudgeon.


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