A.M. Dragonfly

From a distance this music is terror and unholy squalling noise but, on closer inspection, there is beauty, grace, and, ok, some unholy squalling noise. In opener Fake Union Of Uplifted Charlatans at least two whacked-out distorted solos trade licks (ably assisted upwards by distant spacey bleeps) while an elephantine and gloopy treated bassline trundles on, carrying its cosmic cargo with no little bemusement. The upbeat title track is built from the same stuff, though with a nervier, insectoid feel. The following pair bring you back to earth with a soft and successively woozy landing onto a fuzzy undergrowth of reverbed chords and throbs. But there is much to fear among the lush micro-greenery, as the predatory beasties of Eightoeight will attest - a hungry blind mass of globular bass larvae and mercilessly cutting high-end analogue pincers. The incredible 13-minute closer True Believers blows what's left of the cobwebs.

Limited edition colored vinyl.