WINGS ON FIRE
For sheer ferocity, I can’t think of another sound artist who compares to Daniel Menche. His intense, thick fury has become a trademark in today’s “educated noise” world. Even at low volume his harsh textures constitute an act of aggression; turn the wick up and it’s nothing short of rape. Embrace this vision and you’re in for some serious stimulation of the most hideous parts of the self. Concussions is a double CD entirely constructed upon primal percussive patterns which start out pretty comprehensible but soon begin a complex game of superimpositions, weaving themselves into a burning tapestry of inhuman shamanism that bypasses the brain and acts directly on the nervous system. It’s peculiarly harmonious, though: think of Concussions as Daniel Menche’s Drumming. Meanwhile, Wings Of Fire comes in an elegantly packaged 555-copy limited edition, and is certainly one of the Portland noisemonger’s most violently addictive, truly entrancing albums to date. In addition to the percussive challenge – think Carnival in Rio heard from within a nuclear reactor core – the drones are stronger and even more dramatic. The sound of last thoughts crossing the minds of passengers aboard a plane about to crash.