Released just ahead of the Polish avant-grinders new album Meteor (which we'll have in stock soon), this companion piece to the 2012 Ep Stop The Chaos is a collection of remixes produced by a variety of experimental electronic / noise artists and producers that for the most part transform the original Ep tracks into totally unrecognizable new forms.

The first track is a remix of "The End" from Lukasz Myszkowski, the former lyricist and vocalist for Antigama; he takes the original's Tangerine Dream/John Carpenter-esque synth score and tweaks it into something more abstract, a dramatic piece of dystopian electronic soundtrack music laced with bits of textural glitch and static and layered with additional voices and effects to create the feel of an almost Blade Runner-like sense of dread. Polish experimental duo LXMP take the song "E Conspectu" into their own weird realm of chopped-up Naked City-influenced hardcore/math/noise weirdness, transmuting it into one of the most severe re-workings on this collection. Japanese tech house producer Prism overhauls "The Law" into a strange sort of goth-tinged industrial metal, like Godflesh infested with wheezing electronics, weird crooning vocals and smatterings of darkwave synth. Tomasz Madry's remix of "The Law" is another imaginative contribution, deconstructing the angular, discordant grind of the original into a shimmering cosmic sound collage, a seemingly Nurse With Wound-influenced synthscape flecked with sudden bursts of abstracted crush, bits of shapeless piano, and other surrealistic touches. Progressive house producer 21 Grams doesn't do a whole lot other than bathe "Find The Function" in a haze of static and work in a handful of new samples (a woman's sobbing, a muezzin's prayer), but Bogdan Kondracki from Polish prog rockers Kobong turns "Intricate Trap" into a super-short track of bizarre robotic funk-metal that sort of resembles a Praxis jam.

There are two remixes of Stop The Chaos's title track: the first is from Krzysztof Lenard and Tomasz Madry, who reconstruct it into a spastic lurching math-metal monstrosity infested with electronic beats, more glitchy electronic textures and some odd vocal processing; and experimental electronic artist Anna Zaradny takes more of a musique-concrete approach to her re-envisioning of the song, with what might be the most unrecognizable offering here, flensing away all of the original elements and leaving behind a buzzing, chirping dronescape. All in all, there's some really imaginative material on here that will be of interest to anyone fascinated with the more experimental realms of metal/electronic alchemy, and not just Antigama fans.

Released in a limited edition digipack, limited to five hundred copies.