Review by Agata Pyzik for Wire
“A kind hand leads me to the car transporting me to who knows where. It comes to a halt after ten minutes. We might not have gone far, but, disorientated, I lose balance and start feeling deeply scared. Other hands lead me in complete silence to the designated space. The surface beneath my feet feels like grass or fur. Remembering I’m wearing an S&M like mask, I wonder if this is a porn movie set…
…Finally, a long synth sound emanates from the abyss: as if from a forest, sounds emerge one by one. They’re probably generated by a computer, but in my mind I see green trolls belching fire. The wisps of sound thicken into a fog; clicks and drones tremble over basses; guitars squeal, making me think of Norwegian Black Metallers in leather and painted faces. I lose hope and take refuge in childhood memories. Then a voice enters, an animalistic, asthmatic, death rattle. It’s like someone was being killed right in front of me. Unable to do anything, I slump in my seat, helpless. But having got this far, I must survive…
…I preferred not to know who had done this to me. Hearing an unknown performer in an unseen space had altered the way I experienced sound…But for the purposes of this review I must reveal the perpetrator was Francsico Lopez.”