MIRRORS FOR PSYCHIC WARFARE: Revolver Debuts "Crooked Teeth" Video From Industrial Duo Featuring Neurosis' Scott Kelly And Buried At Sea's Sanford Parker; Band To Support Godflesh This Week
I See What I Became is the impending new full-length from MIRRORS FOR PSYCHIC WARFARE, the industrial collaboration between Neurosis’ Scott Kelly and Buried At Sea’s Sanford Parker. Produced by Seward Fairbury (Corrections House) and Negative Soldier, mastered by Collin Jordan (Eyehategod, Indian, Wovenhand, Voivod), with decibel manipulation by Dave French (Brothers Of The Sonic Cloth, The Anunnaki), the duo’s follow-up to 2016’s critically-lauded, self-titled debut boasts eight tracks of unsettling and unapologetic audio demolition.
In advance of its release, today Revolver offers up the official premiere of MIRRORS FOR PSYCHIC WARFARE’s “Crooked Teeth” video, created by Chariot Of Black Moth.
Issues producer Seward Fairbury of the clip, “This is exactly the kind of mind disgracing garbage I have come to expect from these two fuckers. It's not nice, so go fuck yourselves this is the real Death Disco."
From Revolver: " The latest single "Crooked Teeth" is a trip-hop-influenced track that dances around noise, power electronics, drum and bass and more, flirting with the dark aesthetics of Nick Cave, Aphex Twin, and early Tricky, creating for a fascinating bed for the vocals of Scott Kelly."
View “Crooked Teeth,” courtesy of Revolver Magazine, at THIS LOCATION.
I See What I Became will see release on CD, digital, and vinyl formats on September 28th via Neurot Recordings.
Find preorders at THIS LOCATION.
MIRRORS FOR PSYCHIC WARFARE will play two very special shows supporting industrial titans Godflesh this week with future live abrasions, including a European tour this fall, to be announced in the weeks to come.
It’s been three rough years since MIRRORS FOR PSYCHIC WARFARE sprang into existence with their startling self-titled debut, but don’t think for a second that the time was spent idle, this unit constructed an even more unnerving and destructive record with I See What I Became.
Over the course of these eight bile-rich pieces, a sonic abattoir is erected, exploited, and razed. Turbulence rises and churns giving way to rhythmic machinations, lights flicker, a grand mal/guignol seizure besets a frog-headed snitch, blood collects in a stainless-steel gutter. Claustrophobic sudor that evokes all you held dear from Skinny Puppy, Foetus, Godflesh, bath tub tina, and wondering where the fuck you will sleep, provided you ever do. There’s nothing fun here; nothing but the cold of an autopsy followed by the heat of a crematorium. A sliver of galvanized bone flies from a circular saw into the toothless maw of a streetwalking Kali Yuga. Good or bad, I’m not sure what we did to deserve this.