The opening statement of Berlin’s Corvo Records is a tirade of phased distortion, electronic squeals, sweeping metallic chimes – somewhat anarchic, yet unarguably cohesive – acting as a cathartic, all-at-once release of pressure, and a rowdy proclamation as to what PopeWAFFEN are all about. But while “Easter Sunday Raid” perhaps a little busier than the rest of the improvised pieces present on this album, it’s arguably the most gentle on the ears. The album only gets more twisted and unnerving from here on in.
The awkward, melodica-driven “Deserta Nella Buia Notte Blu” sounds like a Paris love scene gone wrong, while the combination of vocal slurps and raptor shrieks on “Sibilo Canino” border on the absolutely hideous. The could almost be considered child-like in its “why not?” attitude to sound choices and combinations. But there’s a sense that PopeWAFFEN go beyond this, and ideas seem to come pouring forth from a lost mind rather than a developing one.
It’s a brief album (clocking in at 29 minutes) but couldn’t really be much longer. Indeed, there are moments when patience wears thin – when the calamity is less effectively executed than others (the babbling, squealing, yelping vocals of “The Creator has a Master Plan” get a little too much) – but this is an otherwise exciting and chaotic release, and does a solid job of pushing Corvo Records out into the open world.