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on one side, torontosaurs gastric female reflex expose their vulnerable underbellies by offering the gift of song, as transmitted through the cackle of thirty meter bronze age jump ropes, and then swatted with limitless spools of tape culled from businessmens faculty tape recorders. the flipside is deepwoods maine-based crank sturgeon, taking a similar story and running it into the side of a convent full of shark-eating nuns. setting loose the angry hornets, these ladies of the lord respond with high powered leaf blowers, stopping now and again to play a little violin and pee in their dixie-cups. not your typical avant "electro-acoustic" record, both projects assure this baby can dance like a school of fish, drunk on mercury and TAB cola perhaps, but to an effect that is glorious and spacious; snakey and experimental as all hairy heck, yet an electro-doot we can all blorp and weeze and get primative with.
-c r a n k s t u r g e o n