The debut LP of this collaborator with Rhodri Davies and Chris Watson, evoking the knockabout, visionary, English humour of Jeff Keen and Bruce Lacy, spiked here with massive, steaming dollops of contemporary political outrage and disgust. ‘Sounds are slurpy, runny, fizzy, spongy, hard as rock,’ says the label, ‘recalling long improvisational sets, floor-sucking dubwise psychedelia, plunderphonics and tight GRM-era electronic sound design.’ Released to coincide with BD’s summer-long exhibition at the Whitechapel Gallery in east London, nodding to everyone from Busby Berkeley to Max Ernst.
supported by 4 fans who also own “Crawling Through Tory Slime”
This album could easily have been just a less-than-reverential pastiche of its source material, or worse, an ersatz tourist piece that reduced the original Congolese musicians to mere drum-banging curiosities. Mercifully, Peder Mannerfelt has used modern studio technology to reinterpret and expand their extraordinary sound, the result being a remarkably cohesive and dynamic record that demands all the attention you can give it. Brilliant. Nic Brown