Search:trash compactor

In a continued disruption to the airwaves following releases from Bondo and Monde UFO, Quindi returns to the Californian noise rock scene-not-scene to dig on the gnarled riffs of Expose. On their new release, the LA outfit double-down on a unique blend of bloated guitar fuzz and grimy analogue synths, and come out with a curiously cosmic kind of kick-ass.
If there was a dreamy, sun-bleached quality to Bondo and Monde UFO, their label mates Expose sound more wrought from sweat-drenched jam sessions under halogen strip lights in grease-stained garages. But the guttural quality of their blown-out guitar tone is matched for vibrancy by the dexterity of their playing, bringing angular free jazz to post hardcore and sludge rock, capped off with the unearthly sonic possibilities of flamboyant synthesis.
This dual-layered wall of sound lends extra weight to the likes of shit-kicking 'Speed Dial', which thunders like a kosmische juggernaut with amped up leads and a dead-eyed vocal condensed into a visceral minute, all with enough time for a dramatic breakdown, synth eruption and a final thrust. Similarly scooped out of the trash compactor, 'Description' rides for longer with one foot pressed firmly on the fuzz pedal, letting the electronics squeal around the punked-up rush of the guitars.
But Expose are not a one-dimensional band constantly thrashing it out. By contrast, 'The Constant' hits a crushing emotional note in its more structured push and pull between delicacy and heaviness, hitting bittersweet notes along the way throughout the peaks and troughs of the arrangement. 'Self Terror' washes languid, discordant guitar strum into swirling FX accompanied by sax from Monde UFO's Ray Monde.
Smart as a whip, sharp as a tack and boiling over with an untameable urgency, Expose make their presence felt in brilliant, bruising form on this particularly fierce addition to the Quindi catalogue.

Coal’s self-titled debut is a crushing rejection of the hive-mind colony of your scene, your values and your reality, not an escape, not a distraction, but a true-vision of the world in all its grotesque, hate-filled glory. Listeners will step away from this record as from a Coal show, cleansed, purged and altered.

After initial flirtations with the project being a ‘live electronic act’ proved unsatisfying, Anthony Arcana & Oliver Kohlenberg chose to morph the project into something unbound: hoarse-barked, one-line lyrics, mutant chainsaw guitar feedback and drums that sound like a nightmare, Kronenberg trash-compactor collide to form their own world. Coal’s sound is a blurred vision of influences, fusing elements of post-metal, hip-hop, black-metal, American hardcore, sludge, doom, jungle and trap into something that feels cathartic, potent, whole and unique.