Unsane
Total Destruction

I've finally understood it. We are particles, infinitely small, always in motion. Sometimes we touch for a few moments. More often, we collide.

Tiny bumps. Tiny explosions. The reality is that life is repulsion, actually, destruction.

Creating is art because it's difficult... so they say. Destroying is not art because it's easy... they also say this.

"Total Destruction": that is destruction that becomes art. Chris Spencer knows that the body is a bomb and "Body Bomb" rips you apart from the inside, with its dark and obsessive rhythms.

"Straight" is a torture instrument. Razor blades to swallow. Shabby and wild.

The Unsane manage to create chambers of mutilation that would make the most sadistic of death doctors envious. "Road Trip" is the dark tale of a poor desperate man, whose legs have been crushed, dragging himself along a deserted road.

Let the fair of human guinea pig experiments begin! No corpses allowed, only suffering. Sonic power that cages you. Distortions, screams, and eerily fascinating moans.

I believe this album is the best of the Unsane because it perfectly recreates the sound of anxiety. The sound of pessimism. It erases a possible future and puts you in an eternal present of self-destruction.

Deep down, it's what distinguishes us from every living being. And it’s what we are: imperfect machines that seek, even unconsciously, self-destruction. Inhuman in our being human. Less human than a dog, or a spider, or a worm crawling in the dirt.

So pessimistic as to be the worst of optimists.

Because in the end, speaking for myself, I am a coward and hell, I love life...

Destruction isn't just separating, distancing, colliding, and bouncing off who knows where... more often what disintegrates us is that which we are most attached to...

Life.

"Total Destruction" is a paradoxical anthem to life.

LIVING CONSTANTLY SCREWING WITH DEATH.