Daughters
Canada Songs

THE REVIEW

Never would I have thought that someone could put the purest hysteria to music.

That someone could condense into a CD the torments of those who have lost control of themselves. And that someone could have control over the lack of control. The Daughters have done it. Their spastic sound completely rejects any constraint imposed by musical canons and frays, stretches, contorts under spasms of apparent uncontrollability.

It unties without human logic only to recombine in a way never conceived before. The journey begins brutally. One is assaulted by the shrill screams of a madman in the throes of furious rage; but in his eyes, there is a glimpse, and one realizes that beneath his mask of lost sanity lies a slick psychological violence, which is far from uncontrolled. And he spits in our face, full of lust, disconnected words, a mirror of a perverse mind.
"If I cut off your arms and legs and wrap you in some fucked-up cocoon, would you still look at me and say" you can't catch what you can't see"? Well I caught you