Here the-fuck we go! Every GeRmAn ArMy onslaught carries with it a certain charm, but “Cattle Border” tips the scales in its favor with a wicked-slow stew of low hums, echo-speak, drum-bot, and a system of composition that works well with the bleak atmosphere, plodding beats, and churning effects. A chaotic soundscape is achieved with just a few key elements tiptoeing up your spine like evil intuition, the occasional voiceover lending a, might I say, measure of civility to the proceedings (not much yelling or screaming here). If this were a record, you’d be speeding it up to 45 in a vain attempt to make sense of it; as it stands, you’ll think your tape player is eating this puppy alive. Coldwave is cold, but this stuff is so frigid you could crack its ruminations with a few taps of a ball-pen hammer. And since when could frost feel this creepy? This is Mattress and Mike Sniper under a million miles of prehistoric ice. Du hast mich, GeRmAn ArMy.
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