Cerca:insecto

DNO hits double figures as Denver’s Trisicloplox & Sectra return with more industrial-strength electro-sludge.

Sectra sets the tone with ‘Mail Theft’, a hulking mass of sand-blasting static, insectoid jitter and low-end boom. It’s an intimidating, uneasy listen, like tuning through the haunting emptiness of post-apocalyptic broadcast frequencies, only to be interrupted by sudden bursts of unseen filth and gore.

Trisicloplox follows with a brace of tracks. ‘Bruised’ does exactly what it says on the tin, gargantuan kicks pummelling layer upon layer of dense sound into an impenetrable wall of noise. Ritualistic rhythms and gluttonous amounts of overdrive swarm over distant wails, sending everything into a spiral into despair.On ‘Megastructure’, doom metal meets hip-hop, as rough-hewn drums crunch above a bassline that takes its cues from the Super Hans School of Electronic Music: “The longer the note, the more dread.”

And finishing up the vinyl offerings is ‘Dead On Arrival’. Coming courtesy of Sectra, the most traditionally ‘club-focused’ effort of the lot sees a serrated breakbeat and venomous acid lick sparring over dissonant pads.

As always, digital listeners are offered a little bonus, this time the only full collab: ‘The Dead InTheir Shrouds’. Shunted along by a systematic kick, the track’s jackhammer subs become all-consuming, seemingly sucking all the air from the room and hurling it back out of the bassbins in a violent frenzy.

A bold release that’s not for the faint of heart, the ‘Dead Structure’ EP further cements Trisicloplox & Sectra as truly original talents and DNO as an outlet that can never be pigeonholed.

Rhythms of postmodern realism at the very bottom of the DNO.

The latest offering from French shape-shifter Maxime Primault (High Wolf, Black Zone Myth Chant, etc.) is both a distillation and deepening of psychedelic soundsystem strategies honed across a decade plus of production and performance, in crisscrossing trenches of vibrational exploration. The four cuts comprising IN D EV IL were born of bass and syrup, designed as anthems for baser desires: “I just wanted to make bangers really.” Alien squelches and insectoid chatter pulse above thick swells of low end, intercut with sirens, screwed voices, and seasick wobble, alternately pummeling and prismatic. Masterfully disorienting, flickering with FX, drops, and narcotic murmuring, at the threshold of dissociative and dubstep.

Recent years spent performing in clubs influenced Primault’s listening habits, both in taste and production methods, skewing towards a starker contrast of highs and lows. IN D EV IL encapsulates this evolution, hallucinatory but urgent, like DJ tools for an underworld afterhours: tight, tripped, and lightless. The EP’s tracks vary in energy and density but share Primault’s premise of “tunes that sound fat and heavy.” Club music as dimensional gateway, booming and liminal, rippling with tremors, texture, and undertow. Whether deployed in public or private, these designs manifest vividly altered states, testament to their creator’s omnivorous vision of rhythm and sound.