Many light years away from earlier electronic Kraut Wagnerian fantasies, spiky-haired Brits explored bedroom mechanics, transforming the spirit of Punk into circuitry stuck together with Cellotape and spit. Chewing on still throbbing industrial gristle, motivated by evil overlord dominatrix Dame Thatcher and evergrey tower blocks, the attitude of DIY defiance from guitar and guttural snarl now synthesized became the soundtrack of industrial Britain in decline. Andrew Cox and David Elliot's efforts as showcased here add weight to the theory that less is more. Where access to luxurious music-making contraptions may result in easily-programmed, empty gloss, the pair create comparatively simple moods in rhythm and texture. Yet in crude explorations such as these lies a kind of magic.
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