And the sound of damage continues to fascinate, even after four albums. It's tempting to compare Oval's odd but compelling minimalism to that of Pan Sonic. But where their sounds are often similar, their directions are always divergent. Oval, it seems, works to expose the very constituent elements of music for what they are. Rhythm is only a malfunction, a trick of repetition.
Melody is nothing but the vaguest of familiarity.
Harmony is just functional efficiency. I'm afraid the chorus is merely interference. And nevertheless, beauty endures and even thrives in the sound of a machine trying to process an unreadable disc. A buzzing noise, a digital rain, and we begin slowly to put things together again.