���The second release from this strange Spanish sorta-black metal project with connections to the bands Like Drone Razors From Flesh Sphere and Teitanblood, Under Magnetic Sleep is a three-song, one-sided 12" that picks up where the previous tape left off, delving further into the blackened, hypnotic churn that dominated much of the debut tape with a twenty minute long descent into trance-inducing blackened lurch, howling noise, and phantasmal soundscapery that continues to expand the band's bizarre confluence of spiritism, esoteric science, improvisation and hateful buzzsaw aggression. Primary member CG Santos, a frequent collaborator with death metallers Teitenblood, carves out heavily distorted, evil riffs that are coiled around a pummeling, almost motorik drumbeat of the title track, the effect very similar to the psychedelic sound of Aluk Todolo, but much noisier and more chaotic, and mostly instrumental with vocals only rarely appearing; when they do, it tends towards bursts of staticky radio transmissions and distant howling buried deep in the mix that become more prominent on "Cryptograms of Larval Desire".

��� Things get really abstract with the last song "Quintessential Ectenic Psychode", though, as the drumming gets stripped down to a broken, spaced-out beat and the guitars are swallowed up in a din of chaotic noise and backwards sound, bits of vaguely jazzy music bleeding through that veil of black murk, all warped and warbling, the eerie dissonance of the guitar becoming obscured by swells of garbled electronic noise and feedback. The music slowly winds down from that mid-tempo pulse into a slower, more doped-up dirge as all of that distortion and feedback and noise washes over everything, the music growing more ghostly and indistinct, the last few minutes of the record transforming into something that almost starts to sound like grim, fuzz-enshrouded trip-hop, a Scorn-like scourge with that fractured drumbeat shuffling and skittering through the fog of droning sound and shrill buzzing tremolo riffs and mutated orchestral chaos, that din dropping out for a moment leaving just that sparse beat before crashing back in with swarming black metal guitars surging over the looping, mesmeric black noise.

��� Limited to three hundred copies.