Detroit has been known as the producer of the fastest cars, the dirtiest rock & roll, and the sleekest techno. Now it's father to the bastard child of all of those things. The noisy and obtuse post-techno rhythms of Wolf Eyes are the product of broken Simon games, Juan Atkins-style electro, and George Clinton funk chutzpah filtered through homemade keyboards, drum machines, and other heavily distorted instruments. It's what the Village Voice dubbed "garbagetronica," but not surprisingly, none of the so-called participants (among them are Detroit's Viki Hott, Chicago's Metalux and Nautical Almanac) really seemed to accept so simple a title. One can put together almost any strange pairing (Throbbing Gristle meets James Brown or Suicide meets whomever) and no matter how outrageous, the comparisons are never that far off. Wolf Eyes truly exist in a mass of contradictions. This first record perfectly illustrates their sound as they creep and creak along, bubbling, squirting, screeching, and clanging with freaky backing vocals that are barely audible as they squawk detachedly in the mix. At first, the record appears potentially fun but quickly turns down a dark alley to a place where art imitates death. Wolf Eyes' self-titled debut is also incredibly inventive in its use of existing instruments (guitar, bass) as it creates Franken-funk for a last night on earth.
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AllMusic Review by Ken Taylor