Sightings
Through The Panama

The Plutone trio returns to engineer a plutonium bomb.

It's incredible how these three are capable, with conventionally rock instruments (guitar-bass-drums) and without the aid of electronics (so they say), of creating such an alienating, plutonian sound (alienating+infernal). Yes, you read infernal, but there's nothing esoteric-metallic here; they blast your face with piercing guitars (you can never tell if they're riffs or solos), a biologically pulsating bass, and a highly dub-infused drum to describe a typical night among the filthy, foul-smelling alleys of Brooklyn.

Compared to their previous album ("Arrived In Gold", the only one I know), the sound has become less sophisticated, less ambient at times. It's become more monochord, more hyper-compressed, with less "artsy" and more spit-out vocals.

Even a cover of "The Electrician", by Scott Walker, from the '60s repertoire, completely transfigured.

Hardcore noise yes, but well-seasoned with schizo-industrial atmospheres and tribal rhythms that explode into hallucinations. Your ears will bleed hearing the razor-guitar obsessively asserting its presence. The speakers will beg you not to make them cry anymore, but you love your heart too much not to enrich it. So let your sly smile oxidize as you listen to this 40-minute punch to the gut.

Violence yes, but in the end, just songs.

PS: Upon rereading my review, I almost thought about not sending it, as it seems I am no longer capable of writing. But in the end, I sent it because this group, too little-known in our parts, deserves a proper introduction. I therefore urge you to listen to this album. Thank yourself for having trusted me.