'Though the record's true strength (and it's a truly muscular one at that) resides in its ability not only to conjure the sense of being perched precariously on the edge of the cinema seat, sofa, or wherever else exclusively via the aural, but in its intimacy with expiration. The effect of portent is so all-pervasive that it nags and niggles away at the listener; reeking of doom, gloom and, ultimately, death itself. Sincerely, I struggle to recall a record quite so finely attuned to quietus and again this seems apposite, for this particular work was primarily compiled by Broadcast’s solitary remaining member, bassist James Cargill, who was in turn abetted only by prerecorded bits and pieces Keenan once sung. Its authors too therefore bridge that uncharted hinterland unknown to all sentient humans which distances the living from the lifeless; the being from the unknowable beyond.’

Dots & Dashes review Broadcast’s soundtracking of Peter Strickland’s Berberian Sound Studio

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