bosse-de-nage: ii (flenser)

a curious venn diagram: skullflower, slint, neurosis, burzum. intersections, ellipses and parentheses. so much subsubgenre-ing, so little interest… by the brutal orthodoxy black metal demands bosse-de-nage verge on nouvelle vague. yeah there’s post-somethingorother lurking here. don caballero xeroxed beyond recognition. even epidermally it’s confusing. the cover’s all modernist sleek but wrapped around pornographic shrieks. french surrealism rubs up against blastbeats. and all that charred fuzz and treble, at times it’s like shoegaze with it’s arms and legs wide open. it’s all skewed, strange tones and textures, veiled and festering beneath the usual aural tropes. reminded i s’pose of satyricon’s volcano (without the lush production) when it slowed, hit a majestic fucking groove and awaited the haters hate. so yeah, a splendidly meandering geography, literally and metaphorically, that feels as much californian as norwegian as french (oh france, oh alfred jarry, oh paul eluard, oh mortifera). and one that finally, majestically, blown-out and stuttering monolithically, collapses in on itself. oof…

flenser / bosse-de-nage

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