Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Twig, sees eight freshly minted tracks from Bristol’s Dsic – unlike the recent p45 there's no titles for any of the damaged architectures found inside, but your imagination isn't left wanting.
Track one is like typewritten Braille squashed into soggy paper… a pocket fumbling, harsh processor giving out to a daffy duck mouthwash of mouse traps, zapping round in a cylinder driven scramble. Eggshell irritations enveloping into hail stoned latex that's all tinny Samurai chimp and nasty virus nibbles.
The circuit shrubbery of track two is like tiny Morse mice learning to play xylophones.... an itchy trawl of short-waving snips n echoes bubbling over, producing a nice zen-like emptiness as it all feeds into a meditative bird croup.
There's a whiff of lab coats in the next track, with its TG ‘Weapons training’ dialogue… multi tracked jabber, caked in low key static/glitch. An SPK cum sandwich in a spooky loop airport, the information autocue scootering on underneath the metallic asphyxiation.
Four is processed voice and radio tunings, decorated in a fairground tingle. Scraping, mangled organs popping their gears and venting a hobo crumbled spray... powerful stuff full of indecisive grace.
The pain factor is high on the next track, piercing your lugholes in a scurry of data churn, hatchet spin cycles boiling away as brittle shapes are tattooed in washes of atonal colour... nightmare of fiendish calm and insistent chatter… I imagine implanting 'bonus grabbing' bankers with this, losing myself in the whites of their tortured eyes…
Track six is incredibly subtle, atmospheres that fall like smears of consciousness...palm held mirrors, giving out hypno-globin chills and vacuum packed martini glints, where as seven is a backward drum n bass cobbling, that the brain tries to decipher... a queasi-lingus of radiating outers gathered inward. An artificial dance of inside outs.
The final track is tap dancing starlight and electric toothbrush drone... a menacing bassy vibe coupled with a sinister patter that squints out pure film noir... hinting at new directions for the Dsic sound world...