Pink City
Designing Women

Ziocan©!

These guys are really scāry.

Ten cataclysms in the name of a chaotic para-noise, post-punk, pre-industrial catastrophist that dismembers the limbs and depletes the ears.

This is a roaring tungsten monolith in perpetual collision between the industrial apocalyptic nature of Godflesh, the ruthless clarity of Unsane, the absurd nebulosity of Crash Worship, and the rustic danceability of the primordial Cop Shoot Cop.

Some, amidst the pandemonium, even hear His Holiness Michael Gira: I don't really, but those are nuances. The literally "blown-out" recording further contributes to making the basaltic casting even more naive.

Album of the year.

Last.