Colin Webster: baritone saxophone; René Aquarius: drums; Otto Kokke: baritone saxophone
In the umpteenth unglamourous week of human mundaneness as THE norm to tolerate (plus a literal attack from hordes of butcherly mosquitoes due to unusually damp weather) nothing is better than a healthy dose of sonic barbarism to deliver our systems from toxic memories and abominable fake smells coming from people’s mouths and brains. Performers of this function are Dead Neanderthals, introduced to yours truly via a nice email sent by drummer Aquarius. Well, many thanks René, for this must be the closest thing I’ve heard to my beloved Borbetomagus: same anger, same sense of psychical (and pulmonary) cleanup, same propensity to the classic concept of “touching extremes” which lies behind this very website. Violence flowing across entrancement, throngs of interlocked patterns defining the integrity of resonating clangor, infinite inflammation and uproarious fury turned into a savage prayer not exactly destined to a “creator”. This 40-minute track conveys – quite graphically – utter emergency, will of resisting to the daily grind, necessity of exploring the “other” side of interplay. It really has to do with crucial aspects of continuity, not only in a musical acceptation. Lose yourselves in this quagmire of tattered aspirations and learn to appreciate the rough voice of realness, the key that opens the door to a revealing incursion into your own sentience. Or, at least, what’s remained of it after having individual personalities subjugated by the ludicrous rules of characterless collectivism.