Mirex C9 de Sickboy Follow
Mirex C9 Commentaire
bernard had been buying mirex releases since the very first, somatic responses’ tlooz 7-inch, back in 2001. since that time bernard made sure to save his money so that every few months, when mirex unleashed another one of its limited-release experimental break records, he’d be sure to be the first to get one. bernard had heard of sickboy’s incredibly twisted breakcore releases on death$ucker and peace off, so he was especially excited to pick up mirex’ newest release, sickboy’s into oblivion. but after just one listen to into oblivion, there would be no point in bernard buying any more records. upon the first few sick notes of into oblivion’s first cut, 'owleybass,' bernard began to feel a burning sensation in his ears; the lumbering macabre bass line and frenetic break-splicing was scrambling his senses—more than the usual dj scud or phthalocyanine 12-inch. it starting as a mild itch in his ear canal that progressed to an intense heat that, by the time 'heart' blared through the speakers with its carefully mutated amen intensity, began twisting bernard’s sense of reality into a devilish, mutinous auger, cleaving its way into his frontal lobe first. blood trickled out of his nose and puss from his eyelids under the pressure of the raucous 'spiral formation' and 'nomadic hunters,' which sounded to bernard a little like the industrial d’n’b that panacea had pioneered nearly a decade ago, but was far beyond anything he’d ever heard from mathis mootz, venetian snares, fanny…or anyone else. into oblivion ground on, shredding bernard’s parietal lobe next; a green flow erupted from the down-turned corners of his mouth along with a delicate foam. 'metropole insomnia' sent strangely ambient, apocalyptic imagery through what remained of his aural and visual senses. by the time he reached the closing 'let’s hear it for the hardcore,' bernard’s face was covered in tears—but he wasn’t sure whether they were from the sheer joy of experiencing such brilliant breakcore music, or from the pain those pummeling metallic beats exerted on his senses. it doesn’t really matter though, mused bernard in the last thought he’d ever have, ‘cos into oblivion is the last record i’ll ever need.
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