"Year Of The Centipede"
(Gubbey Records)

This is one of those skronky flailing slobbering tantrums chasing me so it can throw crumpled-up bulldozers at my face all day. But not all the time. Sometimes Black Kaspar gets the void to gaze back into you long enough for you to forget what you even look like, but they also have a controlled explosives mode. And other times they build obviously unstable towers made of shudders and let you sweat while waiting for them to collapse in rubbery, concrete-barfing ecstasy.

We have constant distorted bass. We have feedback-skewered unidentifiable rumblings like an airplane stuck in your hair. We have jellied synth transmissions from out there. We've got those guitar squigglies sneaking in to see what's going on. This doesn't necessarily *sound like* Naked City, Alboth!, Borbetomagus, Slab!, or whatever deconstructed metal primitives you could rattle off, but it sure *reminds me of* them. Which means you probably already know whether you need this pounding mess of soggy shrapnel in your life. I do.