Campbell Kneale's (Birchville Cat Motel) isolationist dronemetal monstrosity is back, heavier than ever on this new full length disc; this time, he's joined by fellow New Zealand artist (and a C-Blast customer from way back) James Kirk, who some of you might know from his NZ free-noise group Sandoz Lab Technicians. Acting in newfound duo mode, we get something a little different on this BBA monolith...

It's just one massive continuous hour long track, a sinister expanse of dark ambience that opens with flurries of tinkling chimes, deep echoing resonances, eerie far-off rumblings, and distant streaks of high-pitched sound existing in cavernous black space. In time, a single electric guitar appears, but instead of crushing downtuned chords or rumbling amplifier waves, it's a simple, plaintive series of strummed chords that hang in midair and decay into the blackness, dark and dolorous, a Codeine riff strummed in slow motion and floating through a vast underground chasm. This slowly drifting, minor key melody is beautifully dreamy, even as strange grunting sounds begin to drift up from the abyss, low, snarling pig-like sounds hovering back at the edge of your hearing. This continues for awhile, the slow chords and dark drift stretching out over half an hour and creating a narcotized haze until suddenly THAT RIFF finally crashes in, thirty minutes in, a monolithic jet-engine grinding that erupts out of the void. It's deafening and ultra distorted, a blackened digitally processed drone roaring over monstrous, minimal drums and shimmering electronic debris and dense layers of tonal fluctuations, the riff shuddering and shifting in space, sending out cascades of feedback and speaker buzz. It's like some modulated, processed version of Corrupted, a massive black hole of grinding, industrial dirge. The final fifteen minutes or so of the track settles into a feedback soaked dronescape, the distorted guitars dissipating and leaving only smears of howling, high-end feedback in their place, until the sound finally breaks down into a fragile whir of prayer-bowl tones and looping metallic clinks that fades away into silence. Another top-notch slab of meditative, earth-swallowing drone from Campbell and co, packaged beautifully in a black digipack with black gloss printing.