Tribe Of Colin

LIONSPRINTCOMPLETE INTENTHOUSAND PRACTICESTHUS COMEONE
Tribe Of Colin
LIONSPRINTCOMPLETE INTENTHOUSAND PRACTICESTHUS COMEONE

"A mysterious box arrived at the office labelled 'Tsho-Drong Zimpo'. Inside were incense sticks, a bubble wrapped DAT tape with a telephone number on it. We lit the sticks, ran the DAT and a call was made immediately."

New six-tracker of paranoid, decelerated techno brut and bother from Tribe of Colin. You’ve got to be in zone for this. Wrong mood and its doped-out anti-virtuosity will piss you right off. If you’re still waiting for this shady character to start producing tighter, more accessible fare, forget it – LIONSPRINT... is even more rough-hewn and aggy than last year’s Wide Berth, and deconstructs a similar rag-bag of influences from Midwest techno, Isolationism, London pirates and the blunted, blackly comic DIY continuum that connects Homosexuals to Hype Williams. Along the way we get dumdum jack-tracks ('LSCITTPTCO', 'Opium'), oily, insinuating steppers (‘Guidance’, probably the closest thing to his Docile collab with John T. Gast), displaced African rhythm-and-chant (‘MMANWU’) , and murky, end-times minimal synth (‘Ascend to Terra Firma’) with sighing pads that hover free of the cyborg battlefield and offer PERMISSION TO DREAM. Colin’s tools might be crude, but man knows what he’s doing and what he wants...and it's summat only HE is bloody-minded enough to access. 

£13.99

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