Curious blithering sounds have emerged from the crysalis of a somewhat darker onerous fog. Claws scrape the surroundings as the environment pulses around. Tiny creatures seek to dominate the world in which where they were born. A long silence follows. Then it's buzzing creaking electronics burbling away. Circuits chatting with each other, joining in a chorus of some kick-drum beat that ignites to rushing dark sounds...

Part of a review, courtesy of The Taped Crusaders.

Released by Dreamland Recordings

Underwater, a cold metal sarcophagus is all that separates from an inhospitable climate. Identity - humanity - is irrelevant. Waves of overwhelming coldness are unending. But only in this environment can the greatest of contrasts exist. A discovery. A hope. The only place to truly reflect and understand that which is the most removed from...

Abstract organic cells reminiscent of urban soundscapes, crunchy noise and apolcalyptic winds meet tumultuous rumbles in this fragmented mess of expression. Think of it as a short story - an idea, incomplete but vivid, demanding of attention...

Abstract organic cells reminiscent of urban soundscapes, crunchy noise and apolcalyptic winds meet tumultuous rumbles in this fragmented mess of expression. Think of it as a short story - an idea, incomplete but vivid, demanding of attention...