Geographical base | A tower block, South London | |
Occupation | Reinterpretation of drum'n'bass | |
Mission | Subversion of the airwaves | |
Apparatuses | Ancient sampler and worn-out synthesizers | |
Qualifications | Space cake guzzling professors of echo mayhem |
From out of nowhere they came, young pretenders to the drone, clutching a bunch of tunes brewed up over four years of mixing the chemicals:the beats and the bass. Tune one takes you to the heart of the darkside-Darth Vader in the mix-guiding us along the way-sharp beats and even sharper bass. A science-fiction burbling fl atrolling monster to amaze and educate, to enthrall and stimulate, put it on yer plate, mate. Tune two locates itself in the outer regions of the hemisphere-spinning outwards in a psychedelic haze.The dilemma of the shimmering chords conflicting with the deep sub-bass and the hyper crunching beats. Endless rolls of flabby extraneous nonsensical noises, punctuated by the corruscating riddims. Tune three, described recently by our friendly foreign affairs correspondent as 'sounding like a fucking war' is certainly not short in the hardness department. The industrial clanking machinery sampled direct from a factory. A techstepping masterpiece depicting the vibe of the one nation that we so proudly feel a spare part in. Frequency. Out. |
equipment
|
|
review |
|
From issue 8 of Big Cheese This is drum and bass to make small children cry. Fractured beats create totally unpredictable and remarkable soundscapes. The tracks are experimental but not pretentious, hard but not unlistenable. In short it's fantastic. |