King Black Acid and The Womb Star Orchestra
Womb Star Session

THE REVIEW

Infected was the seed of the Black King and rotten the womb of the Star. What kind of offspring could ever see the light?

Harsh electric progressions and heroin-laced stasis coexist in a rough, dizzying sound, where psychodramas of sick Stendhalian egotism mature like filthy poisonous fruits on the steep cliffs of the flesh.

Guttural tones, hoarse voices sucked into fetid vortices where primitive animist hymns are celebrated amidst acid sizzling of psychedelic embers.

Catatonic Velvet Underground dissonances are unraveled by an space-rock soaked with otherworldly syncopations, and exotic scents shimmer faintly behind pachydermic instrumental escalations.

Mercenary captains sink their vessels into the belly of virgin forests throbbing with wild percussion, and disorienting sampled voices are impaled on the stakes of a corrupted blues.

And the thread of ethereal keyboards flits impartially between Hendrixian lightning bolts and savage rhythms.

And electrostatic pools a-là My Bloody Valentine are swept away by vaguely kraut infernal monsoons.

And again and again, in an incessant play of mirrors distorted by feverish psychedelia.

Infected was the seed of the Black King and rotten the womb of the Star. And the offspring came forth, greedily offering filthy and murky caresses.