Grey Force Wakeford

These three mightily-ought-to-be-endearing post-industrial figures come into deterritoiralized choruses and inter-ex-changed song-writing moments in a delightfully sensual threeway musikal kollaboration and are assured warrants of a deservedly-real certain campy-kult response from listeners familiar with their indivual and kollektive werks.Faux-spiritual drono-folk from Nick Grey enters into a very stark contrast with more serious moodo-edges from neo-folk pioneer Tony Wakeford.Moments of intensifying kommuniktions between Kris Force and Grey come off as a flip-flop of channeled earth-crying gloom all the way about to kute bloopers caught on tape put into the mastered depths of songs, a relief of experimental processes and methods perhaps ala divine moments of _Phillip Glass_ meets old-school industrio-angst ala _Throbbing Gristle_ or _Swans_, especially with the perhaps now kult-hit song on Kris Force's solo-project my space page, "Vercors".But what also happens here is that Force and Grey kraft a general acclimation to adequately-studied neo-classical acoustic technique and "new musik" chamber musik arrangements, and when they meet up with proletariat ethico-aesthiks of Wakeford, a jazzo-post-epik fusion occurs to really warm the hearts in times of perhaps approaching kultural reccessions akin to Winter's bio-geo-chemistries. Lots of various registers of various clarinets, live vibraphone and antique old piano, very wet Kreeping blues-garage guitar, crying voices in chorus, masterfully haunting real strings and elsewhere into vokal solos ala some new genre of extremely humble post-industrial musikal-theatre, replete with sinister up-to-date electronika-ish proecssing techniques, a questionably random vs. predestined "same-place-same-time."But thankfully what we can skillfuly and assuredly skirt around in this individualized austerity as three-way group project, is that sort of dated indie kulture post-rock krap with this album. It really rises above that kind of now mediokritized regurgitation with their three-way moments that are way-out with the vibes of most surreal late seventies prog horror-movie soundtracks. A twist of sublime early _Brian Eno_ is innately developed all at the right times as the set progresses towards its searchingly sinking at times Kontra-basso-dubby, jazzo-folko-gloom December horizon even ala _Bark Psychosis_, increasingly-whispering Kris Force narrating the effects of its bio-emotional effekts on our ghost-walking bodies-without-organs wherever they perform their perhaps seasonal walkies and talkies. All in good humour as kute-as-hell bloopers from Grey and Force are saved to grace and mutated into the thickening Romantik mixes ala _TalkTalk_ where Wakeford, Force and Grey are heard justifying their minimally-expressed maximal arsenal of sinkingly serious folklore vokal moments.."Shadows in the night..." "Oh Marble Heart"...One just has to own it and listen to it all the way through to realize the therapeutik trajectories it is eternally on.;]...."In December. Fixed in ice..." [remarkably, even in the end track, no one is buried nor lost in this kind ov assembled, almost-cybernetik, warmth..]- Demian Rufus