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The manc undergrowth continues to sprout new nodes on this killer double album - production by Michael J.
Blood, vocals and songs by Samizdat, a real dense cloud of tunes on a tip somewhere between classic Theo
Parrish mixes - heavy on the EQ - and Darren J. Cunningham’s Thriller edits, with a mumbled, punk swagger all
its own. Like all MJB gear; sleep on it, weep on it.
Honeyed and screwed, this one carries thru a long tradition of spiky, anti-establishment expression,
augmented by MJB’s genius production and Samizdat’s blunted - almost slurred - vocal delivery; mystical,
itchy and red-eyed. The duo embody a deviant aesthetic, but guide you thru their narcotic vapours with ease.
Like some screwed Ugly Edit, it’s all slow, clipped and hazed to fuck, pitched, and extended, all abrupt endings
and no-starts, just over an hour of the special stuff.
Yeah these two weave in and out of each other like nothing else. “I seek to fold into Blood’s productions as I
believe in the collaborative idea of euphoria, like being touched by each other’s inflections. We try to celebrate
and to re-appropriate the notion of what it is to be artistic outside of a “creative industry”. The sam part of
the word means “self.” The whole samizdat—translates as: “We publish ourselves”—that is, not the state, but we,
the people.“
Aye. Whatever DIY means, surely this is it. |
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