The four compositions are incredibly dynamic for being improvised pieces of music, each follow a genre-resistant ebb-and-flow of multi-climactic build and release to linear lines of treated, textural bliss of bleeding edge noise and ebullient sustained tones. Sudden shifts in tone and timbre sprung from a decision rooted in the the collected subconscious of improvisatory exploration. Tome to the Weather Machine

Right from the get-go their interplay is exquisite and precise. The rumbles of "Centralia" are hooking from the first squeals of noise, and things only get better from there. Side A slowly drifts away in ominous snaking tendrils and then returns on the flip side as an assault of clattering pipes, growling synthesizer and insistent buzzing--the kind of swinging-lightbulb-in-the-unfinished-basement nightmare that runs rampant during the witching hours. Fifteen minutes later, the trio blasts across the finish line in a gutsy krauty ending peppered with great jazzy elements. Just in time! Seconds later, the tape winds down to a halt and the ever-perky "play" button on my Walkman springs up mockingly. KZSU