Along with the excellent psychnoise experience of the Artifacts tape, this earlier disc also features main man Michael Krause teamed with William Sides to produce some more longform lysergic-laced post-industrial darkness. On this 2017 recording, Krause continues to handle the synthesizers, percussion, and electronic elements with Sides adding on the additional synths and electronic signals to produce a five-track ful length that gets even more demented than their other collaboration.

Death Factory's patented blend of coarse electronics, sculpted noise, and grinding rhythm-based loop-scapes with classic kosmischemusic and psychedelia

A gruesome bass-squelch appears, writhing around in a clotted mess of ghostly feedback and synth blurp, an abberant blasphemy of something vaguely reminiscent of an Asiatic melody, while swarms of snarling electronics and whirring glitch dart and flit overhead; the sound of that opener "Revelation of the Fendahl" is a bizarre, semi-structured scaffold of trippy, twisted metal and bedraggled signal-waves. Despite the Dr Who reference in the title, this feels more and more schizophrenic as it unfolds, the sounds melting into one another and cereating a malformed mass of FX-fuckery. A prelude to the nearly half-hour "Knight Forces"? When that suddenly kicks in, it wipes the slate free of debris, initially laying down a faint filimient of high-tone feedback and an imperceptible mechanical thrum deep under the sdurface; an eerie minimalist noisescape that extends outwards over the epic duration of the piece. It borders on pure ambient presence, hinting at some of the most sparse early Prurient works, but posessed with Krause's signature attention to grimy detail. That spectral whine and whirr gets demolished by an abrupt blast of hideous gurgling synth and skull-scraping percussive overload, like hearing a corpse in the midst of a military blast-test that has been outfitted with numerous contacts mics - it's a frenzied and frankly somewhat nauseating sprawl of deranged effect-pedal violence and heavily amplified scrape and skree that has a real visceral effect on the listener. Definitely still in the borderlands, spying only the most loathsome aspects of electronic psych-spurt, backed by what sounds like mic'd metal or other objects being beaten into pieces. Some of the lower tones that the duo hits on this track are intense; the spaced-out effects and garbled chaos can sometimes evoke the pissed-off electronic overload of Bastard Noise, Pain Jerk, or even Actuary. Again, visceral. This is Death Factory at its most physically assaultive.

There's another "shorter" piece, "Live in Kalamozoo"; definitely sounds live, and sounds like the duo are doing some serious damage to the audience by way of waves of massive low-end synthesizer drone and grinding bass, ultimately unleashing their signature brain-scrambling devil-Moog hysterics that were probably rattling the beer cups out of everyone's hands. I can hear some people in attendance are seriously feeling it. That earthquake monster is followed by two more long-form noise attacks, "Restraint is Hard" and "Neverwhere (for Crazy Andy) " that again pull you into spare and threatening fields of electrified malfunction and malfeasance, streaking a low-end sub-strata of guttural synth with delay-soaked effects and that gnarled feedback twisted and shaped into something terrible. That contrast between large minimal sound spaces and bomb-blasts of distorted, mangled synthesizer seizure seems to be the driving MO behind the bulk of this disc. Yiou don't get as much of the wild LSD-wrecked psych-filth and faux-Moog monstrosities I usually hear with older Death Factory recorings. They are here, just held back, caged up, pulling at the chain but not being unleashed until the duo have buiilt everything up to an intended level of tension through those sprawling drone-fields and ascents onto immense death-ambient monoliths. But when they let loose with that Hawkwind-in-a-blender synthesier maelstrom that Krause has made his signature sound (and by god, he goes there, he transforms the last twenty minutes of this album into something terrifying and apocalyptic), and it feels like I've got Venusian vermin chewing my feet off as Planet X starts its approach to Earth and the skies burn black above me, it drives my endorphnes through the fuckling roof. This is something a little different. Still abrasive, but different.

Comes in a plastic DVD case.