Dave Phillips has produced one of the sickest slabs of vinyl I’ve seen and heard for some time. This is ghoulish noise from a blackened punk mind, full of agitated imagery comprised of Swastikas embroiled into the symbolic formations of western flags (namely US/EU). Banned from sale in Germany and a press release warning the listener that there is a valid case for them disliking the product is enough hype to at least wet ones appetite to what’s within. Seemingly, with such propaganda, the expectation to be disappointed is present, however, as soon as the needle hit the wax I was quivering with glee behind an angular sofa, like a child trying to escape the Daleks that peer through the saturated tube of their television.

I throw down the record onto the deck and allow a random side to begin. This element of luck, this gamble of fate seemed appropriate as things begin. Sound fades in with a crawling vocal cacophony that sings with zombie voices from eroded floorboards. Images from brutal Italian horror movies spring to mind – fittingly full of heat-haze paralysis and the appropriate fascist patronage – colouring the extremities of ones mind. There is an ominous growl that leads the listener to an untimely death, as if into the slow digestive tract of some aged, haggard and malicious prey. The long movements fill minimal sides of vinyl allowing for a brooding intensity to take hold - effecting one with an intoxicating madness. As you flip the record, sounds thicken and vocals creep from the other side making the black slab immaterial, almost as a harbinger of some unhinged evil. As each side darkens, blackened fingers delve into a locked unit that simply divides one from one’s surroundings. I shall leave this brief as the record is simple, minimal and devastating, taking a course of individual bleak interpretation.

Experience your own immorality. Come over to the dark side. 8/10 -- Peter Taylor (10 June, 2009)