Adam Sommer (Sommer) and Ben Myers (Lather) duo it up with John Dawson on a smattering of instruments and duties, so is this maybe a duo-point-five? Let’s leave it and instead worry about what’s coming out of our speakers: an amazing racket. Well, a lot of the time. Thunderous tribal rhythms meet industrial blasts, whirled together in a sludge-punk slurry and spat out like wax prog freezing mid-loogie. Deep drifts of sustained noise blanket ear canals before bass becomes flesh and attacks. Bring it back, rewind. Death screech, diabolus in excelsis.
Lather/Sommer shine blacklit when heaving spasms of electric noise rock from contorted bodies, worms writhing with electricity like downed wires. Mutilated improv stretches across unforgiving terrain. Four tracks of terrifying nuclear riffage. Almost three years old now, aged well. Grind along, bang a gong, huff a bong, as if your life depends on scorching the earth and starting over.
--Ryan
Posts
