Georgia-based soundscaper Grant Evans has been assembling the various bits of Lacerations since 2012, stitching together a collection of pieces that began life as acoustic riffs and simple sound experiments, then processed into slabs of intense, throbbing waves of sonic blister. Some tracks, like the click-clacking Fat Bride, have an almost calming effect, but others, like the pure hell of closer Souvenir, approach the ragged edges of full-on P
ower electronics. However, despite the fact that a good amount of this tape could be aptly classified as ungodly noise, you never get the feeling that Evans is out for blood. This is not the work of a maniac, it’s the careful clockwork precision of a hardcore tinkerer. In some ways, in transcends music altogether and seems more like hearing the birth of sentient electricity, of a machine discovering it’s own pulse. Granted, I’m on drugs right now (broke my leg), but I’m sure this would still be just as compelling sober.