Limited edition colour vinyl.

With their front cover warmly plagiarizing the work of a certain famous industrial band you all like a lot, Anthroprophh hardly pretend to be anything other than a loud band. Turn the damn thing on and you’re rewarded with a rock action version of turned-up volume, with screeches of feedback, sludge-stuck guitars and a malcontent groove that just keeps things spinning through the miserable seasons of life.

They’re really into the bluster of it all and zone in on the noise rather than the psychedelia of it all: it feels like they’d be squiggling their guitars all over anything whether or not there was a rhythm section driving them forward, and the magic they perform is making themselves feel almost invisible, the dense, filled out drumming impressive but never putting itself at focus.

The band break out of their endless jam for a doomy, squealed metal song towards the end, with lots of pontificating and playacting cutting through the dirgey misery of their slower sound. In their downtime from jamming in an endless circle, they actually love to have fun. A great din.