Tuesday, 11 March 2014

The Floor Above - Bishop

Murky messy shit that sears, 20 tracks of repulsive din to put you on edge with the nasty auralities ranging from the industrial accident garage punk jams on Broken Jaws from to hardcore rushes like Bullshit March, noise rock emergencies like Sunk, stumbling apocalyptic wanderings like Cave, PV-brief snatches of sharpsweet guitar stabs on Unconscious, hitting repetitive Overkill rhythms on Clone, it takes all darting shapes of guitar noise, from the furious and unbuckled thrash, to the skidding high whips of poppy punky scratch, and drags them all through this uncomfortable dingy shitscape, the torturous noise and ugliness acting as the agglutinative agents, merging, melding these diverse parts into one sore whole. Broken music that comes in fits and starts, that grinds and guts, snakes out of control, the sound of defective machine parts sparking with noise and hate, wired with shoddy methods (negative/negative connections), letting the bugs and jumps and misfires run riot, and the groans and grunts reaching through the cacophony, reaching, retching. Reaving. Scrape the metal bones of their rust and stretch a thin sheet of vulcanised rubber across them, let that golem live. Send it to play with martial feedback in toxic places unfit for life and hear it scream as the engine ghosts come out to watch. An unsettling dark slab of weirdo loner hardcore.

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