Your Left Hand Just Exploded

The title suggests the imaginary requiem a drill sergeant gives for a hopeless recruit’s lost appendage after the latter has once again mishandled grenade-throwing practice. The recruit, stupefied and humbled, can only try to wrap his feeble imagination onto the messy mass of tendons evoked by his superior. This collaboration between Swedish reedsmen Mats Gustafsson and Dror Feiler and Norwegian noise maestro Lasse Marhaug will certainly leave you stupefied and dumbfounded, but the threat in this music is definitely not a priori. On Your Left Hand Just Exploded, the trio stalks you with a predatory patience, licking its lips with a king-of –the-beasts confidence. The ferocious, flesh-rending pounce you anticipate never comes. Instead the three just stroke your head with their massive paws, step on your tail and occasionally let you run free. You will not, however, escape.

The three tracks stretch for over fifty minutes, they get progressively longer and more focused, more minimal. Album opener “In the presence of fuckin God…We are all the same” is the shortest here, but also the most schizophrenic. The piece moves in jagged, staccato hunks. The stereo space gets cluttered with sprays of static, stuttering digital disturbance, prowling shreds of low end, strangulated sine waves, the density compressing the raw sonic resources into an unstable, underground mixture. The three are like newly mutated super-heroes (or villains if you wish), fresh from the accidental nuclear explosion, testing out their new powers.