Beth Capper (Sympathy for the Record Industry's Oiler, Fleabag) can't get enough of vocal effects. Dense with distortion, reverb, and sonic mutation, she is a rough-toned siren calling hauntingly through a sea storm of clashing guitar waves beating out a rhythm against solid drumming that goes lustily on in spite of all the commotion. On some cuts, like track ten, she comes through, singing naked as it were. The result is as honest and non-musical as a wannabe pop start teen singing in her bedroom into a jambox. But, the meat on this plate is laced with the gristle of tortured sounds and transmogrified guitars. Feel the rough texture of every note and ruminate hard on the accompanying comic book (by Capper) where one woman circles the drain at the bottom of a cesspool. Music? Commentary? Both? You decide. ~ Tom Schulte, All Music Guide
