This is another stellar collection of noise fidgeting from Bristol’s Dsic, a couture nightmare dealing out abrasive abstraction in ever wonderful variety. A rusted can of shard and valve prospecting, a place where prism mangling and haunted origami happily mix with numbing enchantment. Recession music suitably packed in the lurid blue/black of a P45 - perfect hed-phonics for wandering the empty and dust blown, the spectres of machines, crimping your mind with their broken canker.
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