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And yet another recently-issued slab of vinyl from Blue Sabbath Black Cheer, who are achieving a feverish level of productivity this year. No complaints on my end, I can't get enough of their gruesome, crushing industrial blackness. The limited edition (of course) Lp Bleak Village / Mob Rules has Blue Sabbath Black Cheer hooking up with a band called Penetration Camp for the second time (the first being a cassette that both bands appeared on in 2008),

and each band delivers a whole side of nightmarish subterranean crush, each side mastered at a different speed. Starting with the Blue Sabbath side, we get two lengthy tracks, "Paranoid" (another Black Sabbath reference that I'm noticing here) and "Elektrisches Begr�bnis", together making up some of the band's least abrasive and most droneological material so far. The sound starts off as a massive black wave of deep resonant whir and looping mechanical grind buried under heavy layers of dark rumbling ambience, metallic pound and scrape blurred into a gleaming glacial wash of industrial drift, the sound of hell's machinery heard through a thick 'tussin haze. Later though, things get more sinister as the thick metallic ambience falls away and is replaced by looped tribal rhythms, rivers of thick corrosive feedback and high-end amp grit, the soundscape gradually becoming more abrasive and caustic as monstrous screams and fx-deformed vocals emerge from the muck, the track finally collapsing in a chaotic tangle of broken metal and demonic electronic vomit.

Penetration Camp's side switches over to 45 rpm for a single lengthy track called "Mob Rules"; what connection this might have to the Sab classic, I don't know, but Penetration Camp effectively compliment Blue Sabbath's infernal ambience with an equivalent blast of scorched industrial murk. It's a grim slab of messed-up voice loops and menacing blackened drones scattered across garbled radio frequencies and the distant clang of scrap metal, the black metal-esque vocals deformed by various effects and drizzled over the sputtering grind of broken machinery, loud eruptions of piano-like reverberations, and dank clouds of sewer ambience, the sound shadowy and subdued at first, but growing ever more chaotic and violent as the side continues, until this evolves into a noxious pile-up of black industrial crunch, harsh noise and snarling, agonized vocals that's somewhere in between Wolf Eyes and MZ.412.

Limited to 313 copies, black vinyl, and packaged in a black jacket with silkscreened/pasted-on artwork and two printed inserts.