Wrapping this album (or any other Discus product) in smugly acquiescent verbage like “deconstructionist experimentalism” misses the mark and crashes on the landing strip. These old buddies explore bonked instruments and make a toddler’s mess, yes, but this is also a measurement of the members’ personal levels of – get ready – telepathy and their abilities to give non-verbal cues. Never a dull moment with profoundly nonconformist dada like this. Order at discus-music.co.uk
