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Glowering Abyssinia is intruded upon by electromechanical rumbles, then by overpowering blasts of mighty cymbals, gongs, drums and effects. Monster voices are buried within the mix which parts for a moment to reveal clanking metal and windy whisps before the final assault which ends the piece.
A little bit of everything emerges from the obtusely panoramic otherworld of For the Dews that Drip all over; sonic comings and goings include electroacoustic textures, nature sounds, manufactured noise, radiowaves, musical interludes in the form of organ bursts and dark rock drum and bass passages, etc. This dizzying amount of input is seamlessly arranged into a densely flowing patchwork tapestry, which concludes with blustery eruptions of audio chaos. Much softer is the muted warble and faraway chimes of ark 3ob, though these tones grow louder and nearer, slipping between dimensions.
Breathing Venus (1:00) boils in big sweltering soundwaves, but not for long, soothing into an almost-orchestral stew before closing on a resonant gong flourish.
Disorienting metallic crashes lead into the electronically warbling/droning soundtunnels of Seraphim Hallucino. Elliot Sharp contributes to this disturbed dream, though I was hard pressed to discern any distinct prescence of his clarinet within the scruffy darkness, though a chamber orchestra briefly rises from the murk.
Impenetrably thick chords of orchestral power are futher bolstered with an industrial hiss-and-thud motif to open the long-playing title track; the high-pressure montage of My Spine is the Bow that Breaks (28:25) then shifts to a slow organ piece, backed by interference, which grows into another monstrous mass of sound. Steady surging gives way to spastic fluctuations, joined by heavy-duty buzzes, radiowave oscillations and intermittent instrumental outbursts from flutes, saxophones, strings and many other sources. It wouldn't do justice to try to document the constantly (and smoothly) morphing moods with their ever-changing cast of sonic characters... be assured, it's a schizophrenic wonder, by turns discordantly furious, isolatedly becalmed, radiantly enigmatic, mysteriously naturalistic and so on, and so on...
After that heavy load, have another; clocking in at more than 20 minutes, Collapse at least offers lighter sounds and a more straighforward course, at first. Much quieter, calmer states await as organ and piano notes meander through a wind-and-surflike wash. Slow beats and radio ripples join the gentle progression, which gradually increases in strength and pace. Musical yet somehow stilted into weirdness, the noisier background apparitions threaten to take over, aggressively whipping through the notes.
At the 13-minute mark, everything breaks down, revealing keening strands of afterglow threading their way through a coarsely thrumming energy field. Further immersion reveals glisteningly minute etchings upon the walls of this vast space and signs of other sonic/mechanical entities operating behind (then seeping through) the vaporous confines. Entropy ensues, everything fades away except for the final dying thumps and gasps of things we never really knew.
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