Shanghai's Torturing Nurse take no prisoners with their
brand of noxious, gnarled noise. Chaos abounds in this impulsive
mess of guitar feedback and irate yelling - I can't be sure what has
set this trio off, but they sure are incensed. I'm most partial to
the old-school, industrial sheet of noise that is the B-side,
"Destruction Output," which is all buried in a mangling of pedal
warfare. Deep in the haze of white noise, one hears large-scale,
mechanical contorting - something peeking up from deep within the
oblivion. I'm imagining the sounds of machines gone awry, a whole
factory of epic technological malfunction. Though "Destruction
Output" spares us the screaming, "Fist a Sickle" features vocals
prominently. Whoever's the one bellowing is quite an epic grouch,
although his frustration is matched quite harmoniously by the
sputtering, slicing guitar fury. This composition is more jagged
than its tapemate, more suited to a cathartic writhe n' spasm. With
their name rapidly becoming ubiquitous in noise circles, Torturing
Noise justify all the hype on this impressive racket. (MT)
