Full Sunken Breaks

Full Sunken Breaks


Dental torture. A tree full of clockwork oranges. Animatronic heaven, computer-generated hell...

Dental torture. A tree full of clockwork oranges. Animatronic heaven, computer-generated hell. Come out from behind that pseudonym, Mr Paradinas; we all know it’s you. It could be no-one else – after all, the man skulking behind the identities of 5-Ziq, [a]Jake Slazenger[/a], and now the suitably fried Kid Spatula, is something of a one-trick weirdo. No matter what the name, the game remains the same – remix reality, slap a white label on it, and call it ‘The World (Beautiful But Unnerving Evil Plastic Futurist Mix)’. The chirrup and flute and chime, the darkcore disco, the stealthy sonic murder – ‘Full Sunken Breaks’ is intelligent artifice constructed by a Virtual Master. It’s just not much of a surprise.

between broken teeth, or the cheery root-canal aesthetic of the title track, it should hit your viscera like abattoir machinery. Yet it’s actually relaxing, enjoyable even. Likewise, Paradinas‘ wicked knack of appropriating beauty and turning it ugly – in much the same way as the millionaire who recreated Venice in Vegas – is an illusion that’s all too familiar. Like the sci-fi freak who knows their SFX, you’re impressed that the live wires are so well-concealed on the jaunty walk-in-the-park lilt of ‘Another Fresh Sound’, sated by the sound of Kazumi (vocalist on last year’s single ‘The Fear’) being slowly microwaved on ‘Dirtwah’, pleased that the harp ripples of ‘Otdok’ suddenly crash and crumple into flash apocalyptic horrors – but never shocked, startled, appalled. Bearing in mind Paradinas looks like a man you’d cut open to find a tangle of circuitry and a pair of pivoting glass eyeballs, you guess that was the point.

There’s still excellence here, it’s just now when Paradinas shows his true colours, you’ve already got the matching accessories. The fear, unfortunately, is no longer one of them.