����� First heard Blood Rhythms on that split cassette with T.O.M.B. that came out a few years ago on Land Of Decay, their side offering up some appropriately grim and murky industrial noise. The solo project from Chicago-based experimental musician Arvo Zylo, Blood Rhythms seemed to focus on a darker strain of amorphous, ominous industrial, a notion enforced by the latest release, Assembly. Apparently the band's first official full-length, this LP features two long tracks, each taking up an entire side, and features Zylo teaming up with an ensemble of additional musicians including Bruce Lamont (Yakuza, Bloodiest, Corrections House), Andy Ortmann (Panicsville, Plastic Crimewave Sound), Brian Klein and Dave Purdie, playing a mix of brass and woodwinds inside of what was apparently an abandoned meat locker.

����� First up, "Coarse Land" slowly undulates in waves of dense industrial drone, a spreading stain of blackened ambience, gradually thickening into voluminous, billowing fogbanks of dense dark drone spiked with surges of abrasive metallic sound, the sound of distant mournful horns melting into layered rumblings of shifting metal and debris. Those horns diffuse into the background for most the track, but occasionally drift to the surface in clusters of atonal, scraping dissonance, leaving smears of warped, jazzy shadowdrift creeping across woozy Niblockian drones. Increasingly unsettling, this creepy, seasick ambient nightmare turns into something akin to a jazz-damaged take on Yen Pox or Lustmord's stygian dronescapes.

����� The noisome din that gets whipped up on the other track "Cutter Magnolias" is a completely different sort of racket. A small ensemble for vomiting brass, perhaps, brought into wailing, deformed existence via a roomful of bleating, honking horn players that slip in and out of rhythm and musical coherence across the first few minutes of the side. After a bit though, Zylo begins to cut the recording up, transforming that improvised squall into an abstract collage of chopped-up noise blurt, bits of silence separating the squall, transforming these sounds into a strange assembly of heaving repetitious loops that become increasingly layered and complex, turning into something resembling a malevolent locked groove that takes over much of the piece, backed by huge wall-rattling percussive rumbles as it crescendos into a hellish orchestral dirge.

����� Pretty damn intense, and even cooler than the previous stuff I'd heard from the project. The album is also available in two different versions: the first is an edition of one hundred copies assembled by RRRecords that comes in one of the label's signature duct-tape assembled custom jackets, and includes a hand-numbered and hand-stamped xeroxed insert. The other edition, released in an edition of one hundred twenty-two copies, comes in more extravagant hand-made packaging produced by Zylo himself, housed in a chunky jacket covered in duct tape and other materials (pieces of sheet metal, razor blades, bits of plexi-glass, sheets of sandpaper, etc.) and accompanied by the photocopied insert and an additional 12" "anti-record" that has been horrendously warped/tortured/abused.