Two more releases in an ongoing series of concert material by the Kapottelads demixed by composers who 'have a specific relation to the given material'. Leif Elggren's piece of plastic supports a sea of smouldering static, chopped into shuddering waves by a hovering helicopter. This stutter continues onto Side B, where the life is slowly choked out of it. Over-amplify a bowl of Rice Crispies and record their snapping, crackling and popping descent into a soggy, silent goo. Lasse Marhaug enshrouds twisted, protesting circuitry in ground hum, electric thunder and metal.
Sounds cascade, then roll about like tumbleweed at the mercy of whimsical gusts of noise.
Taut insects sensing the heat whine and protest - their tiny cries slice through the maelstrom. Then we are through and at the crossroads where waiting slipstreams continually whizz past each other. Metal balls rain down on tin roofs. There was an extremely odd song about a 'Star Flute, Surf Lider'. It was constructed from excessively trippy atmospheric arrangements which burst into the most fucked up breakbeat programming I had heard for a while.