Exclusively released on vinyl by the up-and-coming Singapore noise label 4iB, and available on both black/clear and red/gold colored vinyl, each version issued in an edition of three hundred copies, Sutcliffe Jugend's Pursuit Of Pleasure is a symphony of sinister feedback drones and dark malformed synthesizer melodies from the venerable British transgressive electronics duo. At times resembling Metal Machine Music steeped in psycho-sexual dread and reshaped into something much more malevolent, Pursuit is filled with cancerous black electronic pulses and bursts of erotically-tinged horror created with an array of distorted guitar, k-pads, autoharp, violin, percussion, electronic sound generators and synthesizers.

   The album moves from the stunning nightmare ambience of the opening instrumental track "Involuntary Abortion Slide" into brutal assaults of spastic power electronics, Tomkins's distinctive high pitched shriek echoing over the shrill, ear-fucking electronic chaos. More subdued sprawls of smoldering bass rumble follow, flecked with distant squealing synths, blasts of belligerent ranting that spew visions of abject horror and abuse and acts of bestial butchery, eerie wailing tones, the sound often building into almost unbearable levels of tension. The grinding bass loops and squealing vermiform synths sit at the center of much of this material, with those psychotic mewling vocals sending the album through various stages of disturbance, eventually making its way to the whirring loopscape of tectonic bass drone and manipulated feedback that closes the first side, those threatening vocals throwing spittle-flecked ravings of Sadeian poetry over the deep mechanical drones.

   The second side features just two long tracks. The first, "Pig Hole", is a festering pit of guttural voices and whispered perversions, a steady cardiac bass-throb beating at the heart of this noxious spoken-word performance, the track gradually spreading out into noisier, more abrasive terrain as gales of maniacal distorted guitar-noise sweep in, shifting into a strange sort of psychedelic terror, Tompkins's half-muttered vocals transforming into an oddly disturbing croon over a minimal techno-like pulse. The other is a fourteen minute mass of fluttering drones and ominous feedback, Tompkins continuing to unleash his malevolent ravings and skincrawling squeals across the rippling electronic ambience, building to a pandemonium of churning, looping noise, vast and terrible and trance inducing.

   Comes in a heavy gatefold jacket with a thick sepia-toned printed inner sleeve and a large poster insert, each one individually numbered and pressed on 180 gram vinyl.