Man Forever
Pansophical Cataract

THE REVIEW

… said my friend Andrea at the end of the Man Forever concert. And there could be no better observation to encapsulate the essence of this record.

But let's start in order: who the heck is Man Forever? It's Kid Millions, the tentacled drummer of Oneida, in his first solo project, which he himself has described as “The Metal Machine Music for drums only”. For those who have never encountered said record, released in the mid-70s by a Lou Reed in complete physical and mental disarray, you're missing out on the first (almost) solely guitar feedback album in rock history.

An obviously semi-unlistenable record (no, I can't pretend to like it, sorry Lou), and this “Pansophical Cataract” could easily be the same, depending greatly on the listening context. Two tracks for less than 40 minutes, two mirrored tracks, difficult to describe, both constructed on repeated rhythmic patterns and driven to extreme consequences by a paroxysmal crescendo made of micro-variations in timbre and rhythm.

At this point, it would be easy to dismiss the matter as artistic masturbation, but there's something in the muddy, tribal, and solipsistic bottom of the record that draws you to the play button every time it ends. That something is the concept at the base of the first music produced by man: the loop, the repetition, the switch to enter a state of “other” consciousness. All this is at the foundation of every known shamanic rite, from Siberia to Tierra del Fuego, and "Pansophical Cataract" is full of it.

A thus cathartic listening, which needs to be coordinated with the listening context (don't try it in the car, an accident is guaranteed) and which might even ensure a nice visit from your spirit animal. Andrea, meanwhile, had found his, the seahorse. And yours?