Sculpture

"Hypnotic" and "hallucinatory": these are the words most appropriate to describe both the auditory and visual aspects of mixed media duo Sculpture. 2010 and 2011 saw the release of a pair of vinyl picture discs, with zoetropic animations laid directly to wax beneath the grooves of each track of fractured, bleep-laden techno. Spinning these slabs meant staring into a vortex that led directly into a parallel universe, one where damaged machinery sounds were suffused with tropical rhythms and scattered beams of high-energy radiation. Slime Code takes this formula and tilts it on an heretofore undiscovered axis: the source material was laid to seven disparate C-20 cassettes, which were then mixed into a full-length digital edit and this alternate edit, which found its way to vinyl via the Digitalis imprint. The duo have distilled their sound into a frenetic cocktail of tape-based detritus, outrageously thumping beats and an unholy host of barely controllable laser blasts. It's as if Sculpture are trying to wrangle the metallic guts of an electrified mechanical bull, with chaotic but spellbinding results.