Another in the steady stream of super-limited releases that we've been getting from Crown of Bone, this split cassette has the ex-Demonologist joining up with Developer, one of the new harsh noise projects from Matt Reis from the defunct Epicene Sound System label and a heap of other bands that I've dug (the noise projects Teeth Collection, Kvlt Of Unicron, Yes, Collapse and Wasteland Jazz Ensemble and the low-fi blackened noise punk band Altars). Both of these noise outfits team up here for a nice, murky blast of formless crypt worship, and fans of Crown Of Bone's blackened HNW will get the exactly the sort of nuclear necro-blast that they are looking for.

But first is Developer, who start things off with two long tracks of chaotic chopped-up noise and putrid sound collage that sort of comes across like a mucho murkier Government Alpha or K2, a junk heap of found sounds, field recordings, and dirty junk-noise that splatters against your eardrums for nearly twenty minutes. It's an extremely garbled, surrealistic soundscape, comparable to hearing a radio receiver spinning wildly across a thousand channels and stopping every few seconds on a station broadcasting the sounds of a building collapsing or fragments of eerie music or a recording of someone's intestines being unspooled out of their mouth at high speed, or briefly locking into some queasy mechanical rhythm or filthy wall of distortion that becomes twisted around recordings of nocturnal wildlife.

Onto the second side, the beginning of Crown of Bone's "In Preterism" is one of the calmest pieces of drone-sculpture I've heard from this project. Instead of the blackened, charred harsh noise this ex-Demonologist has mainly been spewing out over the past year, this ten minute piece begins with a long introductory stretch of murky, rumbling ambience, a distant factory whirring in the blackness. After a couple of minutes of that, though, CoB finally bursts into the acrid black holocaust of distortion that has become his calling card, a Vomir-like wall of suffocating black static that conceals amorphous shapes, brutal bass drones, howling nuclear winds and guttural death metal-esque vocal hatred that is alls but consumed in the storm of hiss. It's a continuation of the extreme black noise that COB's Dustin Redington performed with Demonologists, and the

second track "Upheaval Of Cavernous Demons" could itself pass for a Demonologists track with it's eerie high, keening feedback tones, sweeps of spacey synth-whoosh and brief glimpses of rotted ambient sound peering through the maelstrom of black blood.

The tape comes packaged inside an xeroxed A6 sleeve in a plastic zip-loc bag, released in an edition of sixty-six hand numbered copies.