Taut, frantic screamo that somehow manages to sound tight as heck while at the same time torn-to-tatters ragged. The sound is jagged and punchy, finding a balance somewhere between Funeral Diner at their best and the smart, fiddly brilliance of Saetia. There’s also something that reminds me of all those great French bands like Peu Être and Rachel – a raw, flailing desperation, and the sense that it could all quite easily fall to pieces if just one element went too far astray. The only let up comes in the form of two minutes of subdued ambience at the end of side B, where the volume and intensity dip without lightening the sad, gloomy mood one iota. It’s a cracking little record with a lot going on – here’s hoping for a new record on Witching Hour from them at some point in 1998.
