���Since 2011's Sexless Merit, UK power electronics artist Zen Zsigo has been producing a beautifully depraved strain of electronic gloom under the name Cremation Lily, mainly through extremely limited cassette releases on his own Strange Rules imprint. These tapes have contained some of the most captivating noise experiments I've heard out of the UK lately, combining bursts of cruel power electronics with smears of ghostly ambience, gales of crushing sheet-metal chaos and, most notably, ethereal synthesizer melodies that add a forlorn musical element usually absent in this realm. New album Fires Frame The Silhouette is the first full-length vinyl release from the project, a stunning collection of dreamlike noise and harsh industrial abrasion that can sometimes rival Prurient at his most atmospheric, comprised of key tracks from previous cassette releases that have been reworked and remixed for this new release.

��� For the most part, the tracks collected on Fires tend to center more around building an oppressive sonic atmosphere steeped in gloom and the banality of daily life, than assaulting the listener with extreme electronic frequencies, though there are moments of severe aural abuse. Cremation Lily's sound finds itself in a disturbing realm populated with the likes of recent Sutcliffe Jugend and Consumer Electronics, the noisier aspects of these recordings rendered in service to an overall immersive sound, an ocean of decrepit industrial collapse. The first track "Drawings Hang On Police Station Walls" that opens up the record suggests a more traditional PE direction, but after that assault of shrieking feedback and scolding screams finally drifts into the void, the album falls back into a series of haunting synthesizer melodies buried beneath endless cacophonies of collapsing scrap-metal and squealing machinery. Eerie minor key laments slowly creep over and through the gales of entropic noise that Zsigo unleashes, sometimes breaking free of the chaos completely to focus on a single murky droning synthesizer floating through the abyss, it's only accompaniment a muted, mechanical growl ensepulchered in the depths. There are parts that almost resemble a classic John Carpenter score being played out over the sounds of a machine shop coming to life, all moody dark synthdrift repeating endlessly over a symphony of rusted chains, but the distorted vocals that appear intermittently throughout the tracks are so frenzied as to resemble the vitriolic ravings of a vocalist from an old hardcore punk outfit. Elsewhere, the sounds of church choirs drift languidly over endlessly echoing volleys of metallic clank and the ambient sounds of a dank oubliette, or surge into onslaughts of reverberant percussive noise and controlled blasts of cetacean feedback, encountering fragments of what almost sounds like triumphant film score music buried beneath massive droning synths and avalanches of empty oil drums, then finally closing with the swirling melodious synthmurk of the title track, a final glimpse of stark spellbinding beauty among the scenes of industrial carnage.

��� Limited to three hundred copies.