Long hours, disrupted family life, brain tissue seeping from your ears - sonic terrorism isn't the career for everyone....
Long hours, disrupted family life, brain tissue seeping from your ears – sonic terrorism isn’t the career for everyone. Yet every paramilitary organisation needs its home guard, and while the fiendish likes of Speedranch^Jansky Noise are [I]out there[/I] making auto-trepanation seem a viable lifestyle choice, Sonovac subvert from within.
A front for young sibling unit Mike and Suzy Silver, they domesticate frantic sound collages until they resemble melodies, neaten explosive textural – snippets of disco, stray threads of pop, folk crumbs, hip-hop debris. If it has a pulse, it’s in their dustbag.
Instead of then trying to press nausea onto plastic, they revel in the intricacies – gently proving their futurist credentials by saying [I]”beep” [/I]on the LED-flicker of ‘System Error’ or working out to silvery Laurie Anderson disco on ‘Maybe Baby’. Even moments of menace – and ‘The Manager Fucked Up’ sounds like a distant electrocution – are undermined by their scatty charm. The robo-drawl announcing, “This is how we do it”. The man wondering, “You always sing such crazy songs – they make no sense at all”. No macho chest-beating or butch static attacks – in the uncomfortable world of the weird, ‘EP EP’ is electroluxury.