Heroin In Tahiti
Haven't been keeping up on my Boring Machine titles and this one slipped away, only to find some heavy relevance with me once the wind turned bitter and the skies greyer. This Italian duo has a way with repurposing the Spaghetti Western for a new and bleaker age. On Sun and Violence the spectral rush of voices seep up from the soil to meet the listener from the outset and from there the record tumbles headlong through Middle Eastern markets at a depth that would make Sun City Girls blush. The record is all atmosphere, foreboding and menacing one minute, and utterly hopeless the next. There's not a lot of room for cracks of sunlight to enter the oubliette that Francesco de Figueiredo and Valerio Mattioli have created, and when it does enter, as on the less claustrophobic "Black Market," it somehow only seems like the eye of the storm. There are moments riddled with the heat of percussion, but truly they never sound like drums of dance, but rather drums of war. There's an element that will appeal to fans of Goat and the aforementioned Sun City Girls but where the former hot glue mysticism to the haze of psychedelic fry, Heroin in Tahiti choose to let the tension melt your face rather than the amps. A great listen for those that spend a lot of time on the edge of your chair.
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