Imperceptible at first, until percussive blasts jolt you awake.. like the detonated blooms of soil from some WW1 newsreel, setting off a chain reaction in your ear of wet earth and startled hooves… further rubble hitting tin roofs as if a biblical rain of frogs. Through the clatter, a warm choral feed stretches like a neo classical slurry, making definite connections to the Xeroxed spires on the cover. The organ pitch steps between each drum sprawl reinforcing the ecclesiastical connection, as irregular wreckage is worked over in atonal scribbling, and DIY hells...
Matt never deals it monochrome, but fills your head with avalanches of variety and this disc is a siren carve up of the highest order, not overtly harsh, but pleasingly forceful, a jumble of drum patterns / vocals and plenty of screech-o-phonics. The wind tubes whistling light circles, chains dragging behind spurting tubular vents... Zapping lasers cutting in over a sweet ripple of metallic wings, wounded by sped up swordplay.
A gorgeous bleed strapped to a pulsing intent, striving higher, almost celestial. A centrifugal riot of colour with reparative yelling at its centre, the tension cascading back into a dying organ and the odd hint of tasty reverb finally fading on the exasperation of a piano innards … 22 minutes well spent…
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