FAMILY PLANNING - TWO SISTERS - CASSETTE
FUCK MOUNTAIN LTD. RELEASE/FMLR-023
HARSH NOISE/EXPERIMENTAL ELECTRONICS
COMES IN AN ORANGE PLASTIC CASE WITH
FOLD-OUT J-CARD INSERT. ON TRANSPARENT
ORANGE CASSETTE WITH PRINTED TEXT.
I.) FAITH / II.) CHANCE /
III.) LIVE AT THE NICOLLET/28 OCT 2015/MINNEAPOLIS, MN /
IV.) LIVE AT SECRET SERVICE/9 NOV 2015/MINNEAPOLIS, MN:
Side A of this album opens with the track “Chance”.
It begins with a mechanical rattle and low howling whine.
Think of a dog stuck in a barbed wire fence and you'll have
the idea. As it progresses a distorted squeal rips through
the mix like a battle axe wielded by some barbarian hell bent
on murder. A voice sample suddenly appears, lending a uncomfortably
realistic aspect to a surreal world of gibbering madness. What follows
is a merciless hellscape of metallic squeals and groans backed by a wall
of undulating distortion. A seething deep drone emerges. An electric chair
warming up. Combined with squelches and screams of some otherworldly spirit.
Repetition seems to be the key here. Building and building like a psychotic
breakdown. A bloody ritual of the blackest import. The distortion continues
to build. Violent bursts of static explode and blasts warbling sonic shrapnel
everywhere. The chaos begins to decay as a spectral voice screams incantations
into a thundering sky. It melts away only to become a vomiting, ripped loop.
This gives way into a new feedback drenched horror. Swirling walls of unholy
machinations beckon you into a tomb of oscillated horrors. It only gets darker.
Besieged by demented screams the wall crumbles away into ripping feedback and
voice samples. A hissing blast pushes through. As the track comes to a close
the opening howl begins to repeat. Lopsided and half dead streamers of electronics
pour in. Sealing your doom. Just when you thought you were safe the second track
“ 28.10.15 The Nicollet” opens with a spectral voice sample. Resonating with malice
and despair. A staccato electronic pulse shatters the gloom. The electronic bleating
becomes a rhythmic pulse coupled with violent static discharges. An alarm sounds. The
ship is sinking. Suddenly a wall of sub blackened noise cuts in leaving a trail of limbs
and emotion. A haunting metallic din ensues. The voice returns. Ratcheting, clinking samples
complete the malevolent ritual. Moaning singsong enters over an oscillated drone. This is no
dream. This is real. Maybe too real. The track closes with with another voice sample. A warning?
Time slows. The world hangs limp and damned. The voice recedes to be replaced by low end electronic garble. It appears to be a live track. Track three “9.11.15 Secret Service” opens with a strange sample concerning an extra-planetary cult. It beckons us to leave. Maybe we should listen.
A pulse appears along with a sickening warble that reverberates into eternity. Nasally plastic
clicks and whirs accompany a second sample. Jim Jones truly revealed. Static bursts ascend and
implode. A slithering electric serpent promising eternal damnation writhes into the mix. The
volume intensifies. The delay burns the voice into the mind. Looming in the distance is a wall
of unbelievable density. It crashes down. Changes pitch. Tosses your mind like a corpse versus
the sea. The voice sample returns. Broken by high end seizures and what sounds like a swarm of
giant wasps. The track comes to a close with another sample. We can never go back.