Yeah, so, I’m sitting here with a decent pair of noise cancelling SONY headphones on, getting cleaned out by this release from Deathprod: the OCCULTING DISK. This record’s sleeve is obviously evocative of the early industrial release “second annual report” from TG. The first track of that record is echoed and paid homage to throughout. If you may permit me to use overly simplistic terminology, I will go ahead and state that this is an extremely “PURE” album. One prediction I had made in my early teenage years, was that the music world would surrender its gimmicks and “charts”, and people could willingly choose instead, what frequencies to listen to. I like this record for many reasons, but it’s a fun alignment of fate, i feel, that I am spinning a disc that’s little more than blissful arrangements of sonic tones. Thus, I am become a factor in fulfilling my own prophecy. If the world hasn’t reached this degree of enlightened enjoyment, I will invite them to. Think of it this way: you don’t NEED to bring anything with you to prepare your ears, as it were. One may just bathe in the aura of it. Knowing the artist picked synths that are long extinct is interesting, but not as interesting as, maybe, a few tracks in to this. Such information as to the artist and means of production, simply adorn the music. They are peripheral, accessory. I am thankful that the fate channels that throw things into my attentive grasp, plopped the album here, (and in good timing). Its a beautiful thing, when I own a piece of music like this one: worthy of the “[HQ] fully lossless” file it’s embedded in. I also look forward to future listens, to either zone & bliss out to, propelled into the sonic stratosphere. Devoid of thought. Or perhaps finding and running my attention down this record’s gilded edges and throat. Take my review from the point of view of a customer who, when he gets asked, says “I don’t have favorite music, i prefer SOUND”. Because that’s the level you’re playing with. This is absolutely made for people with specific interests. A coldly executed, well chopped cut of delicious arctic noises.
The Humble Rock Dove 