“All manner of hard-to-identify sounds that could have been made inside a deep sea diver’s helmet at 20,000 fathoms,” muses our friend at Idwal Fisher. “[S]hortwave trawls [pick] up single, impossible-to-translate words, slight squeaks, wheezes and heaves…, budgie cages … shaken in empty houses, lo-fi electronic squawk, bottles … kicked around a stone floor, parps culled from small boxes with switches on them, electro-acoustic dub, dried peas rattling around a Quality Street tin, a mass beetle exodus…. The mood in places is austere, in others noisy, in some contemplative….” Attn magazine seems to concur: “A mutating web of feedback, choral echoes and lo-fi loops…. It’s a real nightmare collage…, a blast of screaming electronics [one minute], like someone tampering with the cockpit controls, and the next it’s tornado of factory noise and alien sex. Musique concrète for the mind’s darker, more paranoid recesses, with a gorgeously sparse latter half of noise squeals fed through some sort of astronaut intercom.”