The brooding and foreboding introduction of "Nostalgia" sets the scene, pulling down the shades and blocking escape routes to give the rest of Phone Sex an unhindered platform and/or playground. Primitive dance floor fetish slammers in the vein of CHRIS & COSEY or Voice Of America-era CABARET VOLTAIRE, PSYCHIC HOTLINE add an air of innocence while keeping shit decidedly weird and disorienting ("Intimacy" is the perfect example of this sonic conflict). It's a sonic existence rooted in the past future, and the result feels wholly present.
No comments:
Post a Comment