Être invité à assister à une répétition en privé de morceaux_de_machines ne se refuse pas. Le duo formé d’Aimé Dontigny et d’Érick d’Orion, réputé pour clapoter une noize électronique improvisée partout dans le monde, sera de la première soirée du Festival international de musique actuelle de Victoriaville la semaine prochaine. L’heure est donc au peaufinage. Surtout que la démarche semble tellement compliquée pour certains néophytes qu’il devient formidable de pouvoir questionner en direct les bidouilleurs à chacune de leurs interactions avec le surprenant lot de machines devant eux, toutes branchées les unes aux autres. À quel genre de performance auront droit les spectateurs qui assisteront au concert de jeudi? «On a prévu 55 minutes d’improvisation musicale avec canevas, soutenue par les projections visuelles de Boris Firquet et Éric Gagnon, qui sont à mon avis les meilleurs VJ au monde…» annonce Érick d’Orion, qui ne déteste pas feindre de venir de la constellation d’Orion.

Bruit. Musique. Musique faite de bruit. Assemblage sonore qui ne revendique à peu près pas de statut musical. Difficile de s’amouracher facilement de morceaux_de_machines, tant le résultat prend davantage de sens en spectacle. Pour bien comprendre la dynamique de travail: Érick donne un spectacle en jammant sur un ordinateur portable superpuissant équipé des logiciels Traktor et Audiomulch, alors qu’Aimé mélange des sons à partir de disques de sons et de bruits qu’il a lui-même gravés, pour ensuite les mélanger à la source sur une double platine laser. «Cela me donne l’impression de presque jouer d’un instrument!» rigole Aimé, qui ne voit aucun mal à ce que l’on s’échange gratuitement sa musique via Internet. Et de rajouter: «Si jamais on me harcèle juridiquement pour utilisation d’un sampling de Fernand Gignac par exemple, je m’en fous! J’irai alors piger dans une chanson de Jean-Pierre Ferland et ainsi de suite…»

«Le Festival international de musique actuelle de Victoriaville, avec ses 24 spectacles, ne représente finalement, qu’un tout petit échantillonnage de ce qui se fait dans ce domaine.» Michel Levasseur, directeur général et artistique du Festival international de musique actuelle de Victoriaville (FIMAV), était de passage dans la Vieille Capitale, hier, à l’occasion de la 21^e édition de cet événement, qui se déroulera du 20 au 24 mai.

Il a fait remarquer, au cours d’une rencontre de presse, que la musique actuelle était en constante évolution et que les jeunes artistes poussaient maintenant dans le dos des vétérans. «Il y a, depuis cinq ans, au Québec, une véritable éclosion», a-t’il lancé, faisant référence aux petites étiquettes de disques indépendantes, à La Sala Rossa, salle de spectacle de Montréal et aux nombreux nouveaux artistes qui émergent. «La scène est d’une telle richesse que nous avons fait trois ensembles de Montréal, l’an dernier, et les musiciens ne se connaissaient même pas», a-t’il lancé, expliquant qu’il recevait plus de 500 propositions par année pour son festival. «Il y a beaucoup d’artistes que je ne connais pas. C’est un work-in-progress constant et c’est parfois difficile à suivre», a-t-il reconnu.

morceaux_de_machines

Habituellement, Michel Levasseur n’assiste jamais aux répétitions d’artistes avant les présentations de spectacles. Plusieurs concerts présentés en première mondiale sont souvent montés à Victoriaville quelques jours même avant le spectacle. «J’aime être surpris et c’est ce qui arrive la majorité du temps», a-til expliqué, faisant une petite exception pour une présentation d’un court extrait du spectacle de la formation morceaux_de_machines de la Vieille Capitale. Le quatuor sons et images, composé de Boris Firquet, Éric Gagnon, Érick d’Orion et Aimé Dontigny, se produira le 20 mai, à minuit 15, au cégep de Victoriaville. «Lorsqu’on a mis sur pied cette formation, il y a quelques années, on s’imaginait à la blague, jouer à l’occasion du FIMAV, a lancé Érick d’Orion. On a de la difficulté à y croire et on ne dort pas vraiment beaucoup, en ce moment», a ajouté Aimé Dontigny, précisant qu’il avait bien hâte de découvrir l’envers du décor et côtoyer les grosses pointures de la musique actuelle.

No Type has started its own label too, besides the well known mp3 site they offer and to be honest they offer us some really cool musics for our listening pleasure. The first of the couple I checked is the A_dontigny, Diane Labrosse Télépathie CD, recorded live at the “Casa del Popolo” (guess somewhere in Québec? Or so in Canada). Within its 4 tracks (& its nearly 50 minutes) we can get electroacoustic to ambient soundscapes to more experimental noisy tunes as well that made me like a lot the rich flavours of this surprisingly good encounter. The second was the morceaux_de_machines liberum arbitrium CD, coming in the typical empreintes DIGITALes packaging (actually they house the No Type editions), a really phrenetic CD. Unfortunately don’t know much about this project besides the infos and mp3s that are available on No Type but this CD made me curious to check out their work. A kind of really “broken” sound but not with the meaning of hiss, crackle, scratch whatever. On the contrary, a kind of more noisy/frenzy Christian Marclay-like stuff. There were moments that I thought I was listening to a more noisy version of the impressive Marclay/Mueller More Encores CD. Truly impressive the way they treat & create their soundscapes & certainly a not so easy listening experience. Check it out!

Le bruitisme hardcore renferme en son sein un germe de facilité, comme en attestent les tonnes de productions maison qui cherchent à renchérir sur le style de Merzbow et des Haters. Heureusement que morceaux_de_machines nous ont livré le superbe liberum arbitrium. Bruitiste sans être extrême mais surtout éminemment intelligent, ce disque élève l’art de l’assaut sonore dans les hautes sphères grâce à de sévères retournements dynamiques et à une réserve inépuisable de sources sonores. Tout est à aimer: le contrôle des musiciens sur la brutalité de cette matière, la réalisation exquise, la pochette de Guy Boutin.

These laptop goblins make sure nothing is really sure anymore, as they bring the fuzzy principles of quantum mechanics and string theory into the world of binary sonics, played backwards in time, it seems, to the beat of sprawling chronometer meltdowns, clocks and spiders crawling away across cracks in the cement, time bent in on itself, curving ever deeper into spirit and matter, ever closer to the core of the NOW, as the minute, minuscule slices of time with their minute – but densely packed – fragments of lives are mangled through a wormhole in space-time with a Gargantuan might that distorts everything recognizable and well-known into pointillist approximations of an echo of the solid, bohemian safety of A Prairie Home Companion… individual remains of human lingual morphemes floating up into conscience in flaky dandruff residue – and I’m talking about music, don’t you forget, music right above the surface of dirty blue jeans and shimmering Macintosh interfaces, out of frantic, warm circuits in a mystery machine right out of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – but DON’T PANIC!!!

The Quebec City radio show Napalm Jazz on CKIA–FM back in the mid 1990s constitutes the beginnings of the duo work of Aimé Dontigny and Érick d’Orion. The concept of the show was a wild mix of avant-garde, hip-hop, free jazz, electronics, found sounds and musics, which lays down the direction of the subversive workings of these guys up until this today, obviously providing enough creative force to keep them staggering down this wildman path!

The packaging is something extra here. It is made like regular empreintes DIGITALes covers, with a contraption of fold-out, hard, high-quality paper, but the art is overflowing and really compelling here, with demonic drawings by cartoonist Guy Boutin and wonderful water colors by Sophie Dowse. The whole impression of this package is one of bursting, overflowing, overpowering creativity. Flow with it or bend out of the way and hide, until it sweeps by!

In track 2 I actually find a more overarching, modal structure, in a bubbling frenzy which the mind glues together into a bead, a line, a melody of sorts, if only from a distance, as fractions of voices add a human touch, and the static of telephone lines through minus 40 Lapland wastelands wheeze and crackle through the human predicament with needy messages for a hungry ear beyond the weather…

There is nowhere to hide from this army of lightning rods inside your head, emerging from the core of Self, cutting away at your stray thoughts like a battalion of paper shredders in an office high-rise. Piano bar melodies are smeared all over the walls, as something gets back at something for something. We slide up against the back wall, easing sideways past the most awesome of goings-on, as the fish jump in frenzied electrocution in their center room aquarium, seconds before impact, as the avenger comes flying in, bent on avenging the 2nd, 3rd and 4th world, as he recognizes “the disgusting thing that causes desolation standing in a holy place” [Daniel 12:11 & Matthew 24:15], and Armageddon is on…

Track 3 brings hallucinatory voices into a woman’s warmth and shelter (Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood, when blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud, I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form; ‘Come in,’ she said, ‘I’ll give you shelter from the storm’ [Bob Dylan]) as skin peels descend like soot-flakes from an arson epidemic all across the parking lot as you run and keep on running, away, away, away…

I get the idea that these sounds may be what alien civilizations on forlorn worlds out of thinkable reach may one day find as the electromagnetic remains of our moment in time on Earth, the distorted transmissions from a died-down culture, a faded-away species, soar past their receivers scanning their cold skies for traces of spiritual spurs down the galaxy clusters and beyond…

morceaux_de_machines is a virtual dream machine, injecting the listener with such a wild array of visions that peyote and mescaline becomes futile accessories. Aimé Dontigny and Érick d’Orion have found a modern, high-tech backdoor into age-old shaman rites and magic otherworldly experiences – which goes to show that each time in history has it’s on way of boring into the layers of consciousness, towards pre-intellectual domains of bliss and wonder. When genuine and authentic medicine men of contemporeana (for example lap top wizards) take on this feat as seriously as morceaux_de_machines, the means are there, installed, up and running, for anyone with a clear ear to utilize – and I do, with the pleasure of a whooopeee mind rider!

Comment ne pas s’intéresser à deux jeunes artistes dont le premier groupe avait eu la pertinence de se baptiser Napalm Jazz, (également émission de radio), échos lointains des Naked City côtoyant les assauts digitaux de Merzbow. morceaux_de_machines se fait un malin plaisir à brouiller les pistes, à tel point qu’on ne sait vraiment plus si ils ajoutent du bruit à la mélodie ou si ils restreignent le bruit à la mélodie. Acharné de l’improvisation, le duo canadien se lâche volontiers, citant au passage l’Art du bruit de Luigi Russolo ou Anthony Burgess (Orange mécanique) pour soutenir leur discours, leur évocation libre de la création artistique. À cheval entre l’ambient, le jazz, le hip-hop baclé et le bruit blanc, morceaux_de_machines tisse des atmosphères tendues, catharsis numérique de processeurs furibonds et de lignes de programmation effrénées. Paradoxalement, leur musique n’est pas sans évoquer les productions de Deathprod sur Biosphère ou d’un Stock, hausen & walkman remixé par Kevin Drumm… Dontigny et d’Orion se détachent de ces références en gardant une spontanéité et un abandon de soi à leur art. Ou une manière habile de garder le sourire en se bouchant les oreilles.

At first, comes off as a busy sounding cd combining lots of noisy electronics and various samplings of voices and what sounds like acoustic instruments. Everything sounds broken up and jammed in together, without much mixing or blending on the first 4 tracks. Suddenly, with track 5 (prime shake), the sounds seem to resolve & form a more coherent depiction of a moving landscape in sound. Quite a difference, with direction and less broken up elements cluttering jumbled edges of the parts. Instead, a streaming rush of bits of semi-obscured events passing thru, similar to audio sources fading in and out of range of a moving persons hearing. A tendency towards a slightly more sparse mix allows the sounds to reveal themselves better. A diverse cd which is impressive on the more developed pieces, and seemingly lost in the scatter on others.

morceaux_de_machines means, if i am not mistaken, pieces of machines and is a duo: Aimé Dontigny and Érick d’Orion, who met at a radio station. They played in a band called Napalm Jazz, who release a MP3 work on No Type. Together they are mostly interested in free, improvised music. It seems to me they are using vinyl and tape manipulations, as well as the good ol’ computer treatments. Everything is layered ad infinitum in the computer and mixed at great intensity. Bring on the noise, because that’s what this CD is all about. Noise played at a furious rate, with furious intensity. But unlike the industrialists, their noise is almost free of walls of feedback, but instead there is scraping and scratching of maybe 100s of pieces of vinyl. Maybe my love of noise has vanished over the years, or maybe I’m just getting old, who knows, but to play the entire CD in one run, is getting a bit too much. The CD’s best moments are when they pull back and give air to their lengthy improvisations. A zen like endurance test maybe, but I keep on thinking: ok, heard that, bring on something new. Instead it goes on.

Animatori dello show radiofonico Napalm Jazz presso l’emittente quebecoise CKIA-FM, presto mutatosi in vero e proprio progetto musicale, Aimé Dontigny e Érick d’Orion hanno da qualche anno mutato denominazione in morceaux_de_machines mantenendo peraltro inalterata l’energia apocalittica della band originaria. Lo dimostra nitidamente l’album d’esordio liberum arbitrium che, prendendo le mosse dall’opera di Anthony Burgess e Luigi Russolo, si distende o piuttosto si aggroviglia in un infernale impasto impro-rumorista di ferocia inaudita. Un urticante attacco massimalista via carta vetra all’apparato uditivo, ed era da tempo che non se ne sentiva di così convincenti. (7/8)

This is one of the most disorienting and abrasive CDs I’ve ever heard.

That’s not an award I hand out lightly. I’ve heard more than my share of noiseartsoundsculpture stuff in the last few years, and while many memories of those listening sessions have been reduced to panic-stricken hindbrain rantings (“Ears Hurt. Brain Hurt. What Noise? Why Loud? Why Hurt? Must Run Away!,” etc.), I’d like to believe that I’m as capable of finding beauty in eardrum-bursting cacophony as anyone can reasonably be expected to be. But I don’t recall having heard any other “improvised computer music” that’s as disjointed, disassociate and relentlessly disquieting as the work of Érick d’Orion and Aimé Dontigny.

Imagine listening to three different CDs on three different portable CD players at the same time. Now imagine doing it while falling down an endless flight of stairs, the tracks cutting in and out, overlapping and merging as you tumble arse-over-tip. That’s cut-up, liberum arbitrium’s opener, and one of the disc’s most benevolent moments.

Looking for something a little more invigorating? Try multivisión espacial, a thirteen-minute epic that sounds like nothing so much as a welding torch fight in a jack-in-the-box factory. Or if you’d like something a little more immediate, try the jolting sonic jabs, needle-sharp noise bursts, overmodulated white noise and excessive reverb of spencer; listen carefully, and you’ll discover a catchy little rock rhythm in the depths of the mix… unless you have an aneurysm first.

If prime shake is a gentle lullaby sung by a solid steel whale to its aluminum and polycarbon children, métal scrap might be an auditory close-up of the sound your car’s engine makes when you don’t change the oil for 30,000 miles. But if you really want to up the ante, skip straight to the closer, digisex. What does it sound like? Imagine a backhoe pushing a combination kitchen garbage disposal/56K modem into a giant glass cistern full of razor blades and styrofoam packing peanuts — oh, and you’re watching and listening to it over a 28K video stream. Makes you want to run right out and buy the disc, doesn’t it?

The mad thing is, it actually might. If you’ve ever taken a whack at creating improvised processed-noise pieces on your home computer, you know that making them interesting — even making them painful for an extended period of time — takes some serious thought and real creativity. It’s one thing to turn the distortion and the reverb all the way up and leave the room for half an hour; it’s another matter entirely to sit there, in the eye of the storm, fine-tuning the wind and the rain and the lightning. Once you’ve made it through liberum arbitrium a few times, assuming you accomplish such a feat, you’ll develop a legitimate appreciation for d’Orion and Dontigny’s work; they rip sounds apart at an almost genetic level, scrunching them and tearing them and twisting them and hacking at them and carving them into little potato-peeler-curlicues with the ravenous relish of sonic serial killers.

Realistically, though, there aren’t many people who’ll buy a disc like this, and even fewer who’ll listen to it on a regular basis. This is one of those albums that defines one of the polar “ends” of your record collection. It can’t be listened to casually; simply withstanding it eats up far more mental CPU cycles than the average active listening experience. You can’t ignore it, and you certainly can’t tune it out.

I figure there are three types of people who’ll buy it:

1. Academic, wire-rimmed-spectacle-wearing intellectual types who grew up on death metal and have spent their later years seeking out increasingly extreme thrills, attempting to trump other members of their social circle in the difficult listening stakes;
2. People seeking sonic armament. For instance, I’d love to play digisex at 5:00 a.m., at very high volume, for the cocksucker with the weapons-grade subwoofer who drives past my house with his car stereo blaring at 3:00 a.m., or for the workmen at the town home development down the street who fire up their earth-moving equipment at 6:30 to get a head start on the day;
3. Random buyers attracted by the cover art and Latin title.

Regardless of which category suits you, rest assured that you’ve never heard computers make noises like these before (no, not even when you tried to play the OS X install CD). There’s something so resolutely non-musical about liberum arbitrium — despite the brief, unrecognizable song snippets (i.e. the one at the beginning of digisex) that bleed through its pink-noise shell — that its most intractable moments will be like siren songs to those musical explorers who are driven to the polar extremes of sound. You can’t sing along to it, you sure as hell can’t dance to it — hell, you can barely think to it — but you need to hear an album like liberum arbitrium at least once in your life, if only to define your boundaries.

This noise duet is definitely of the maximalist persuasion. Aimé Dontigny and Érick d’Orion sculpt samples, digital noise, and miscellaneous sounds into thrilling oversaturated pieces. There is almost always a lot going on, yet the pair eschews harsh noise for its own sake. The eight improvisations on morceaux_de_machines’s debut CD liberum arbitrium have that sense of form and purpose one finds only in the works of the best noisicians. One could even say they approach the style from an academic electroacoustic point of view. No matter how noisy, dense, or harsh things get, they don’t reach the level where it would be cluttered and always seem to follow a greater plan. cut-up opens the disc with a brutal sound collage. multivisión espacial contains the harsher moments, Merzbow-esque, while rothko tends to be more pensive and restrained. digisex concludes with an orgiastic maelström, the perfect way to end.

This music is not for the faint at heart, but fans of intelligent noise — the kind that doesn’t take the listener for a brick wall you can throw anything at — will recognize in this album the spark of genius that occasionally sets an artist aside. And the final good news: liberum arbitrium is a class-A production (recorded while the group had a residency at Avatar in Quebec City) and is beautifully packaged with drawings by cartoonist Guy Boutin. A serious contender for best noise album in 2002, highly recommended.

Deux nouvelles sorties pour l’étiquette montréalaise No Type, qui fait surtout dans l’électronique à risque. Formé d’Aimé Dontigny et Érick d’Orion, tous deux du collectif Napalm Jazz, morceaux_de_machines travaille un art numérique où l’improvisation se mêle au bruitisme. Sur liberum arbitrium, les compositions ressemblent à des fresques abstraites où un univers assez étrange et sombre émerge de cette matière sonore plutôt complexe. Pas toujours facile à suivre, morceaux_de_machines mise beaucoup sur les principes de superposition et d’accumulation. Tel un véritable magma de textures paradoxales, le résultat fascinera quiconque s’intéresse à une musique improvisée non orthodoxe.

Peut-être un peu plus accessible, Frédérick Blouin, qui utilise le nom Œuf Korreckt, propose une musique de facture assez minimale et délicate. Les titres s’enchaînent sans pour autant imposer une signature originale. C’est un peu le défaut de ce disque, qui n’arrive pas véritablement à se démarquer d’une musique plus tout à fait expérimentale. Loin d’être désagréable, Œuf Korreckt aurait avantage à mieux approfondir une démarche encore à l’étape préliminaire.

Swathed in the closest I have yet seen to a Savage Pencil-esque liquefying demon sleeve — a truly fitting representation in pen and ink of this Canadian duo’s music — morceaux_de_machines’ debut CD is an insanely free journey into the possibilities of live laptop performance. Aimé Dontigny and Érick d’Orion’s improvisations are nothing less than startling in a context where the debate often centres mundanely around the merits or otherwise of watching individuals perform the digital equivalent of tape-based works. There is dripping sweat in this music; there is a refreshing ferocity and brutal dynamism in abundance. It seems even at times that the ghost of Coltrane’s 1966/67 interstellar live work pervades the proceedings. The resulting brew is a primordial mix of cut-ups, lifts, uncategorisable loops, acrid and acidic soundscaping and more, all the components reaching half-life at similar points in the fray. Like the sound of the multitude of layers being stripped internally from the walls of the atom, this is pure jazz fission. The penultimate track on liberum arbitrium is entitled rothko and the choice is apt, even as a generalised pointer to the sonic landscape of this disc: oversized slabs of dense, textural colour juxtaposed in an end-to-end fashion, exaggerated, confrontational, surprising — all essential qualities of a difficult but completely mesmerising sonic soup.

Le trio Napalm Jazz a d’abord sévi sur les ondes radiophoniques de la Vieille Capitale avant d’entreprendre une existence virtuelle sur le site notype.com et de donner naissance par mutation soustractive (de trio à duo) à morceaux_de_machines. Aimé Dontigny et Érick d’Orion nous offrent donc sur ce troisième “vrai disque” de No Type une série d’improvisations réalisées lors d’une résidence aux studios d’Avatar, à Québec, avec des instruments que l’on n’a pas pris la peine d’identifier sur la pochette (on imagine une panoplie de gadgets électroniques). Ça gicle littéralement de tous bords tous côtés. La méthode favorite de composition du duo est l’accumulation, et chaque pièce nous fait découvrir une nouvelle définition du mot “saturation”. Avant de monter le volume, assurez-vous que vos haut-parleurs sont toujours sous garantie!

morceaux_de_machines, c’est Aimé Dontigny et Érick d’Orion, de la formation Napalm Jazz. Le communiqué parle d’une œuvre qui s’écoute comme on regarde un Riopelle. Et c’est exactement ça. On en reçoit plein les oreilles comme on en reçoit plein la vue lorsqu’on regarde un tableau de ce géant de la peinture. Sans crier gare, on est plongé dans une mer de bruits qui dessinent l’espace sonore tout entier. Un orage, un cataclysme, qui, bizarrement, n’agressent jamais. Une collection de bruits, rapides, incisifs. Un empilement par textures, le tout organisé selon un rythme qui s’accélère. Des pièces plus moutardées au début du disque précèdent des morceaux plus tranquilles. Mais peut-on parler vraiment de tranquillité dans le cas de ce duo? 8,5/10

The evil face embedded in the doodlish ghoulish cover illustration by Guy Boutin juxtaposed with Sophie Dowse gentle watercolours on the inner sleeve is somewhat suggestive of direction, and is furthered by the Anthony Burgess quote (which is the only part of the extensive liner notes in English) about “two kingdoms… the eternal and luminous one of the divine lord’s own making, and the noisome stinking pit of pain and horror… of god’s enemy.” Within those notes “fragilité… construction de tension… danger… source des textures” all support the impression gained from the cover and delivered by the music.

Aimé Dontigny and Érick d’Orion, morceaux_de_machines, create some of the hardest ambient-noise I’ve heard recently, teetering between the pit of despond and the beautiful city. I thought cut-up would be the end of me – there is an on-going click-pop “melody” which sounds like the soundtrack to a sci-fi battle with choppy cd/tape samples below (either some rap of just aggressive people). As it continues, there is a surprising melodic aspect and a shattered stability. The disconcert continues in multivisión espacial with more rapid pops shoots bloops plips and more over samples, which sound like jazz with guitar flute etc. As time passes the aural assault continues, sharp needles of sounds, more noises, and eventually the surface noises become a merged buzz of sounds, brief dropouts, voices in there, to a quieter final minute.

When you think it will all be overwhelming, lo-fi soundscape eases the impact a little, with lighter whizzy surfaces over piano and sax, again easing to a quieter end. Or spencer’s percussive bursts melded with loose-cable crackle, all echoed slower and quite visceral. Voice pulses enter, it builds and distorts, and then there is a reverbed voice briefly talking to us (an unexpected directness) before a big layered end. And we are caught quite unaware by the lightness of prime shake: gentle pips and burrs, like a computer control room, soft rhythms and crackles, a distant tone melody: the crackle builds, it is all dense restraint into a percussive end.

métal scrap is well named as a scraping melody weaves through crackles drums and building noises over a soft solid bed, joined by a voice – possibly Hitler or a Dada-esque speech, hard to say – solid and directed. The squeaks clicks and soft tone pulses that open rothko are almost pastoral, electro-frogs, a slow echo-drum running through and slight increased density and pace, the samply-jump behind providing subtle noise, a little more desperate to the end before a crackle-pop fade. The final track digisex swings back to the more oppositional strategy, here a degraded distant pop sample provides some vocals and a rhythm, the bleeps and peeps over increase, subsumed by a soft and rumbly futz – a sort of bolero – and all breaks down again in the last minutes.

The beginning of this album threw me onto the back foot, and seemed all noise and aggression, but as I listened through it and on replay I actually warmed to it. m_d_m do achieve the straddling of the inferno and paradise suggested in the notes, creating a surprising and satisfying combination of electro-noise with subtler elements weaving through. Intriguing.

• Paul Bijlsma, Phosphor, May 18, 2003