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The Weatherman returns and takes prominence on this latest sound art foray, taking on the intersection of the surveillance apparatus and our insatiable need to have machines listening for our latest whim.
Layers of samples, voices, music, found audio, sound effects, and other bizarre elements make up these haunting compositions from the masters of audio collage.
Some people will slice and dice their way to a hostile disjointed soundscape filled with vague unease, but Wagon Christ’s approach yields something sunnier and wholesome, like fruit salad.
A return, and the word to use is "unabated." Their pummeling approach may seem to lack nuance, but it's not about how the punches are landing, it's about the pauses in between that make this measured approach to aggression particularly satisfying.
The guitar and bass strings are vibrating cosmically, the drums eat up the miles, an ethereal chorus swirls about. It's not a new formula, but it's done very well, and if you need to drive for sixty miles without noticing the time go by, here you go.
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