Jimmy Weasel - Monday, 4 July 2005 - Print Version
The Album artwork is the first thing to strike. Like the cover of Lynch's Eraserhead, only with less hair and more Photoshop filters. It's a man looking downward and horrified. But no-one knows at what. The contents of the album? The person struggling to open the heavily taped envelope? Topsoil erosion? It's a mystery. As are he qualifications of this "Dr Phibes". Please, Herr Doctor, Why must I take off my clothes each time I come in for a checkup? You're a dentist...
There are 10 tracks on this particular album lasting 67 minutes. So each song lasts an average of 6 minutes and 42 seconds. The songs deviate though - far from the norm in so many ways. Far from being an expert in this particular genre of music known as Techno, it's a far cry from the total bollocks they play in the gym or the 'urban' clothing stores. It's also not exactly what The Wikipedia would define either. It has a laidback feel to it all, where the rhythm is slowly constant and developing to a busier, yet never frenzied pace. There's a lot of 'build' in each of the tracks, and just as a pattern emerges as recognisable, something is changed which bends the shape of the song.
Every now and then, a stop or break occurs; seeming to break down the predictability of where you're being taken This feature is present in many of the tracks, yet none are copies of another. Some are faster, others aren't. There's also a diverse range of percussive tones. All of which explain why it's on loop at this particular moment.
Punch the button and keep a fresh and up-to-date eyeball on our latest reviews, articles and filthy somesuch. Does not hit back.
Undone, unbound, the sounds aground, life's taking the train with a soundtrack of harmonic dissonance, of inner turmoils and evolutionary spotchecking.
Nipple protection from the elements?
Armpit hair needs a lair?
Bellybutton catching too many flies?
Then grab this comfy chest covering and other kinds of T-shirts at The Wax Sweatshop.