FAUST & DÄLEK: DERBE RESPECT, ALDER

I am just about the biggest fan of German Krautrock legends Faust, but as I have previously stated, I think a lot of the stuff they've been churning out the past 10 years - have been stuck in the worming industrial palette as the one you encounter, when you pop on IV. I love the sound myself, but if they're aiming for a higher rating than a 3 - then advance, turn tricks or just plain change direction...

Then I bumped into this record. Watch me eat my own words - with pleasure and sea salt. I've come across a fair deal of collaborations in my life, but this one has got to be one of the most strange and yet most fulfilling that I can think of. Damn this is some good faeces!!! Though, if we rewind things a bit, we can actually spot what seems to be the perfect combination musically. Faust were of course one of the main instigators of the industrial genre - pioneering the metallic and desolate expression before any other bands were even thinking of combining such madness within a musical barrier. Dälek on the other hand took a lot of their inspiration from the same industrial wave as Faust fathered - using beats, bits and somewhat atypical noisiness and dark misanthropic moods - intelligently weaving these cryptic ingredients into the rhymes of the main man. Yet hip hop was always that. A Frankenstein of different parts - historical pieces spanning from Mo-town to Sergio Leone flicks glued together in a weird, bouncy and flavourful concoction that made your head bump and feet stomp.

On this album - the different angles of the industrial music age converge into something quite unique and expressive. Sure it is dark and noisy, but it works like a saw in a tree.

While I gather most of the mature people out there would hate this stuff with a vengeance - I can see many of the new comers to the world of experimental music go absolutely crazy to this mind-numbingly creation. There is a lot to like here - like the laser beam electronics mixed with a slightly corrosive coating that quite simply sounds like sonic acid tunnelling its way down into your brain. Coupled up together with staccato turntable flickers and the mad dog beats of hip hop, you here face something extraordinary and urban - like a towering sonic stature of cement and gravel throwing fiery darts in your general direction.

This one is atmospheric, creepy, echoing, uncouth, bad mouthed, ill tempered, beautiful and ugly, jarring, full of beats, rhymes and an urban pulse-taking device that seems to go beyond what you'll ever read about in a magazine like The Wire. This is streets, fuel and crowbars handed over in a dirty and rough musical gift basket.

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