Are you kidding me? The amount of paganism oozing out of this cut is completely obscene. I'm not being coy or allegorical here either. When I finished the first side of this LP, from the Collection of the Late Howell Bend, a palpable pagan energy was floating around the room in the physical. Seriously menacing residuals... the experience was so strong, I nearly moved to the woods with some ancient books that teach you how to turn unsuspecting people into pawns for evil. Come to think of it, the books probably contained the very same nefarious riddle speak lyrics chanted by Irene Moon and her cohorts on this record. Luckily I keep a crucifix at hand when I'm nearby albums that have such bestial artwork. So, the musical troop's indoctrination attempts were blocked? at least this time. On the flip, expecting a bit of recovery (?), I found one of biggest industrial drool puddles the Warmer Milks have put to the public. If these sets weren?t so unique then I?d recommend a mass LP burning for the sake of humanity, but? well? you pay twelve dollars and? moving on.

From what I do know about the erstwhile Kentucky collaborative, the Collection of the Late Howell Bend is basically the musical component of the Auk Theater. If that's not ringing any bells, then get your webvideo search going and familiarize yourself with Nen Valentine or the Auk of Two Sisters? I?d say it nears transcendence. No joke. If you?ve been lucky enough to check the live set out then you know what I?m talking about. Anyway, Irene Moon, Sara O'Keffe, and Ellen Mole are the players on this record and the territory they sketch out would sound a lot less otherworldly had the analog sythtesizer been a mainstay in the medieval court music scene. Lovely cadences rise and fall in a cycle of carefully placed piano rhythms, violin strokes, and clarinet vibes. Then, before you?ve gotten completely comfortable, the blessed sounds drop out and some seriously cryptic poetry chants start happening. This is the point where I?m pretty sure I?m being indoctrinated, but I?m so caught up in the melodies that I barely notice. This is beautiful and dangerous stuff. Of course, when you get hypnotized you don?t remember it. These might not be my words man.

The Warmer Milks side of the cut cultivates a similarly pagan, and hypnotic, effect from a much more barbarous angle. If the Howell Bend contingent wielded an unassuming supernatural threat, then the Milks are much more overt with their menace. MT starts out with a confusion inspiring missive about love or something like that before unleashing a completely feral set of howls for the better remainder. Lyrics as a weapon? Maybe a worn out pair of bolt cutters or something, but I?m not so sure that?s the right description either. Anyway, it?s got to be as intense as any of the Radish on Light moments. By the end of the exegesis he?s completely spent, you can just hear it. The drum line sets a primitive sort of lowest common denominator tone for the course with an unforgivingly repetitive and eventually mesmerizing repetition. One time WM electronicist and current don of the Pax Titania moniker, Chris Cprek lends some home crafted electronic stabs in the murk too. If they weren?t on a Milks record I say they?re surprisingly tortuous? but you know? For those who fell victim to the steadily restrained cruelty of the Radish on Light LP, then this WM cut is totally recommended. As a package, this could be the split LP of the year. Yes, I actually get to make that call. 9/10 -- Chris Bush (11 September, 2007)