An avalanche of jagged metal. Buildings erupt into shards. Caustic ash. Vehicles detonate.
Fires burn wild throughout the city. The singed horizon of Bellona. Open Trap yawns jagged, exhaling, a blast-furnace. This cassette is a powerhouse of hot noise, favoring interruption and causality over the deadpan wall crunch of many contemporaries on New Forces. Samples are buried deep in the flow of debris: police sirens scream terror, voices emerge only to be smothered in soot and grit. Junk cacophony and electric feedback cross paths to tangle and beat the piss out of the magnetic film. There are brief moments of contemplation in the mix – a piercing whine, a stark loop of static. They, too, are devoured. No time for boredom in the apocalypse. Kill? Be killed? Die screaming. It’s all the same to Blind Date.