A RRRecycled cassette from Ctephin, a husband/wife/daughter trio from Oklahoma who create an unlikely, unholy din of ritualistic noise and dark ambience. Fantastic stuff that I just recently discovered via a three-disc set that came out last year on the Spanish noisecore/dark ambient label R.O.N.F. Records (which we also have in stock and will have listed/reviewed in the shop shortly), it's hard to believe that there's a pleasant looking midwestern family behind all of this stygian ambience. Amazing doom-laden ritualistic industrial drone noise that is right up there with our current faves Robe.

The a-side is a stark raging blizzard of white noise that howls and swirls malevolently, almost reaching the level of harsh noise wall if it wasn't so softened and gauzy, a massive swarm of muffled distortion smothering everything, an enveloping oceanic blast of drone-noise that stretches across more than half of the side. Later, it gradually morphs into a more abrasive, caustic junknoise cacophony of smashing metal clank and screech, a tornado of scrapyard debris and computer parts rising up to the sky and then breaking apart at the end to reveal an AWESOME eye of the storm, an expanse of pure dark ambience and ghostly theremin tones, distant air-raid horns, a sinister synthesizer melody bleeding threough the black oceanic drift, the sound super eerie and epic, strafed by gleaming steel and groaning girders, the drifting ambience slowly overtaken again by the churning maelstrom of distortion and apocalyptic jet-engine roar and face-shredding squall. An amazing and unexpected mixture of grimy wall-noise and haunting horror score.

The other side picks up from the first, a growling, snarling mass of industrial noise and low-end rumble, over-modulated bass throbbing and pulsating underneath of it all. It soons fades off and leaves behind a sinister dronescape of ascending thrum, distorted doom-laden heaviness, and swirling metal textures that seem vaguely rhythmic beneath the sheets of high end feedback and drone, which becomes more and more hypnotic and bleak, somewhere in between Maurizio Bianchi and Knurl, then building back into a chaos-storm of frantic morse code, churning metal avalanche, and rhythmic scrap junk pummel and Total-style feedback freakout.

Comes in RRR's signature duct-tape recycled packaging style.