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A collaboration forged in the heart of the American Midwest, In The Earth Again unites Oklahoma City"s noise rock institution Chat Pile with Texas/Oklahoma"s visionary guitarist and composer Hayden Pedigo. What began as a casual split release idea spiraled into thirty-six-minute album that threads their contrasting sensibilities into something entirely new. Pedigo"s panoramic, primitive guitar, meets Chat Pile"s industrial decay, creating a record that explores unknown emotional registers and atmospheric depth for both, In The Earth Again sounds like a post-apocalyptic transmission from rural nowhere. Instead of making concessions, the five artists work as a single unit, and each decision is made in support of the greater vision. The result is both intimate and expansive, a tribute to the modern wasteland. Cover art by Malcom Byers.

A collaboration forged in the heart of the American Midwest, In The Earth Again unites Oklahoma City"s noise rock institution Chat Pile with Texas/Oklahoma"s visionary guitarist and composer Hayden Pedigo. What began as a casual split release idea spiraled into a thirty-six-minute album that threads their contrasting sensibilities into something entirely new. Pedigo"s panoramic, primitive guitar, meets Chat Pile"s industrial decay, creating a record that explores unknown emotional registers and atmospheric depth for both, In The Earth Again sounds like a post-apocalyptic transmission from rural nowhere. Instead of making concessions, the five artists work as a single unit, and each decision is made in support of the greater vision. The result is both intimate and expansive, a tribute to the modern wasteland. Cover art by Malcom Byers.

Lénok’s 'Langue of Tongue' is a descent. An unhinged pinballing down a realm of incomprehension and lunacy, a darkly psychedelic ego-death-spiral into a world of pure, deranged disquiet. It is, and this cannot be emphasised enough, a truly fucked up place. It comes complete with clearly marked borders delineated by its opening and closing tracks '(Entrance' and 'Exit)’. The message is clear: this is less album than zone.

There's no comfort to be found here. It’s like the inner monologue of some insectile, cyborgian abomination, something unfeeling and hostile, something that could only thrive in a mirror world that perverts light and sullies warmth. It's a netherworld: tracks jut out and stab like cold, craggy wastelandscapes, tangled meshworks of alienic transmissions bleed out into deformed knots of gurgling white noise, lacerations of sound roil and heave and claw as if imprisoned within oppressive waveforms.

‘Tongue’ is marked by a kind of wackiness, a demented slapstick that renders its darkness all the more sinister. Voices wail and taunt like schizophrenic spirits trapped between torment and cackling ecstasy. Tracks giggle and skitter as if populated by grinning, snaggletoothed shadows.

‘Langue of Tongue’ is recommended for the curious and advanced listener. This is music for whatever the opposite of escapism is — it’s REAL twisted. But sometimes morbid fascination takes hold. Sometimes you lift the rock, because you can’t help it, and you observe the squirming mess of life it plays host to. What you experience may not be pleasant, but you might just struggle to tear yourself away.