14 September 2013


On the rare occasions when simply hearing a tape actually takes me right into the bedroom where it was recorded, I find it pretty easy to overlook aural shortcomings. WOODLAN'S EDGE play bleak death/black metal its most primitive, meandering interludes with tinges of prog that I would suggest can only come from a one man bedroom project with no editorial oversight are dropped in between filthy blown out sounds that push the boundaries of music and competence, guitars hissing so high in the mix that I'm not even sure if there are any drums involved. This might be of use to the adventurer and/or completist, but for those who like it weird and dark, you have just found your weekend jam.

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