Coil
The Restitution of Decayed Intelligence

THE REVIEW

Among the most radical flashes of the legendary Coil project, "The Restitution Of Decayed Intelligence" is an encyclopedic entry of total abstraction, a cerebral journey, a manifesto of the genius of two - here also Ossian Brown - gigantic figures in the history of music, as well as in the history of experimentation; figures accustomed to the hidden undergrounds, always looking forward, capable like few others to continuously evolve and explore the most tortuous paths once emerged from them.

Quicksands and burning coals more than anything else: technically clamorous, absurdly noisy, absolutely unclassifiable in any existing pre-packaged genre. It's the beauty of experimentation through electronic means, the possibilities are practically endless; one can experiment heavily even in the acoustic field, Jon Hassell demonstrated this by talking about the trumpet in this case, but with the electronic instrument the artist can shape their sound as they please, expressiveness knows no limits, theoretically there are billions of solutions and different sounds. Billions of billions with the advent of digital technologies. And this is one of the most concrete examples: with Hassell, in fact, you know you have a solid platform on which to place trumpet experiments, with delusions of this kind you never know what you will encounter, it's like entering an endless black hole, falling for meters, meters and meters, without ever knowing when and where it will end.

With these last lines, the work is practically described, a cold, disconnected and nervous yet enveloping and static work in its electronic tunnel. There isn't a single note. There's not even noise for that matter. It’s a dead body in a state of decomposition, and observing it is so strange, thinking about what and who might have been there once, behind that pile of organic matter, what life, what stories. It is perhaps a less ambitious but certainly no less communicative work than the other monumental Coil production, probably not for everyone, the ultra-limited edition confirms it. One, two, three basic sounds, deconstructed, disoriented, (de)carried on a journey with far from welcoming means, abused and expanded until gradually reaching a storm of sharp metallic blades, unhealthy noisy murals, industrial spasms, electric metronomes. Agony. Difficult, arduous, practically impossible to try to describe the two long tracks, more free audio-sculptures with a life of their own than tracks, a life uncertain and tormented, where there is no quantization, structural forms, harmonies, arrangements, repetitions. Everything is entrusted to a minimal and lacerating evolution, vertiginous digital-suite that adorn the black hole, and beyond what they communicate, therefore from a purely aesthetic side, if fascinated by sound life forms as such, following them is fantastic, like Hendrix solos for a passionate guitarist. 

"The Restitution Of Decayed Intelligence" is a work that leaves you completely speechless. How and where will this tunnel end? Will one come out alive? In the meantime, we fall.