These New Zealand rock deconstructionists hold a royal position in the '90s underground post-rock scene as outside and autonomous as a group could be. In seclusion in the their rural Southern Hemisphere country, they practically invented a free noise aesthetic and gave us the dictionary definition of the lo-fi method. On this installment, the ambience and wayward experimentation with feedback are shaped into forms resembling songs; the shattered remnants of riffs and vague sketches of melody recall early Sonic Youth with a more brittle chemistry -- the trio is considerably more outward-bound than their New York friends who maintained a certain proficiency even in their most courageous deconstructions. To some ears, Clyma Est Mort may sound like a chaotic assemblage of wasted jams, while to others that may be its most redeeming quality. However, there are few art rock bands as interesting or prolific -- let alone capable of fashioning their noise into such a compelling document as any given Dead C LP.
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