Davignon is back with his pseudo-marine structures, which he obtains through processed drum machines manipulated in such a stimulating fashion that the results are both stunningly multi-faceted and totally mind altering. I enjoyed “SoftWetFish” in several settings, noticing an increase in Matt’s use of saturation. Not that you’re going to hear Hendrix-like fuzz, mind you; I’m only referring to the capacity of his sounds to completely fill the gap between silence and those undifferentiated masses of events that might appear disorganized but instead reveal various layers of “programmed anarchy”. This means being first subjected to tiny frequencies and irregular, almost spastic rhythmic emissions that prepare to something stronger, which inevitably arrives under the guise of subsonic bumps, synthetic tides and interrelations of biochemical composites whose movement is similar to the bubbles in a mad scientist’s alembic. The fun starts when you realize that this transformation of elements, which one could also associate to some kind of volcanic activity, is indeed pretty relaxing: the brain receives a rubbing in the “right” way, abandoning the search for the complex and the minute detail, all the while favouring a process of “conscious void” that is more caressing than quarrelsome. It’s an addictive kind of music, whose psychological effects are huge when we manage to separate its configuration from what’s commonly anticipated when we deal with the “drum machine” concept. Like its predecessor “Bwoo”, this album is worthy of many attentive (or even not so attentive) listenings; your vital organs could even benefit from them.