Fear Factory
Dog Day Sunrise

THE REVIEW

The terrifying shockwave of Fear Factory shows no signs of abating; it is the early months of 1996, and the "Factory of Terror" is back among us. The previous year, the Los Angeles band released their second full-length work, that "Demanufacture," a true musical colossus of immense power. The term Cyber-Thrash-Metal was coined to classify the impressive sonic chaos generated by the four Californians.

A steel foundry pour of molten metal is what you get from listening to the four tracks that build this single; a quarter of an hour of an auditory massacre with no return. A dark and claustrophobic tunnel to be traversed at breakneck speed; a one-way journey into the black abyss. Cold and deep. The production, frightening and at times even exaggerated, is by Colin Richardson.

The torrential slaughter is opened by the title track, present in two almost identical versions except for different lengths: "Dog Day Sunrise" is a cover of the little-known Head of David, an Industrial-Noise band where a certain Justin Broadrick (...GODFLESH...) cut his teeth. It continues with the remix of "Replica": the declamatory and effect-laden voice of Burton C. Bell, Dino Cazares' Techno-Electronic guitar capable of creating a wave motion that sweeps away all resistance; and finally, Raymond Herrera's drumming in constant double bass and countertempo. The Blade Runner nightmare becomes Music.

The ride ends with "Concreto," and it brings real pain: a track positioned halfway between the aforementioned Godflesh and Slayer. An insanely heavy mid-tempo, saturated with synthetic and haunting atmospheres; hard to push beyond, even for Fear Factory. And indeed, the band's most extreme phase concludes here; a career that still continues, but the uncontrolled glory of the early records is a very distant memory.

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