Great label Motiv Communications, a first-rate catalog, all "junk" light years ahead in music, graphics, and futuristic verve with its performers: Blissed Out Fatalists, Steaming Coils, Ethyl Meatplow, Doubting Thomas, and these Fourwaycross.
The Los Angeles group assembles floods of varying densities in this work (from 1986) that leaves us speechless with its definitive modernity in embracing in a gnostic and dynamic manner the effluvia of eternal returns converted into sounds of immediate and impersonal moods. The "crossroads" symbolically probes the quintessence of everywhere and the challenge of presenting it in these airs is won in its ephemeral glory. Everything crumbles upon shadows of past altars that shine the magnificence of compositions in the absence of thoughts.
Ambient, industrial, underground, eclecticism, noises, magic flutes, babelize in all dimensions with a logical madness that leaves one suspended in an erudite unease. After a few listens, the spark suddenly ignites the concreteness of this work in the interstices of variations that open us to unimaginable pleasures.
The sufficient comparison of Tom Dolan's voice with Ian Curtis's voice is noteworthy, where the existential textures in the present score differ entirely from the European masterpieces. Instead of the introspective Gothic dark of the Manchester group, we find a cosmic industrial sound varied with active psychism where the frontier of the new world fractalizes the vibrations compared to those produced in Albion, influenced by the weight of European history.
The cynical kinetic brilliance surfaces powerfully from the ensemble, very much in tune in unraveling arduous paths but hypnotically engaging in the occult interest aroused, where the astral trance element is solid in its metallic percussion superbly interpreted by Biff Sanders and echoes, grimaces, reflections, reverberations recovered from invisible and disturbing zones in their material unawareness. The overall result purifies deceptive feelings and is sincerely aggregating, ruthless in moving directly to action, sparing us the lie of the action.
Souls move with this transfigured rock, and the body obeys, not disturbing with its vanities, carrying us to these shores that "fill the sky" with an unusual freshness. There is a palpable suspension that, through a sonorous "noisily" present delivery, seasoned with eclectic rock, amazes us in its projection into an alchemical cloud where we manage to glimpse the hidden part of the iceberg in the clangor of exuberance born.
A record I might dare to call candidly experimental but dangerously magnanimous in usage, which even today maintains itself in becoming.
Tracklist
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