Silken Tofu
![W/V - W/V]()
An improvised collision between W (James Welburn) and V (Juliana Venter), the first side of which (“Concave”) goes straight in there with vocal exorcism. A cathartic off-the-bone presentation that has Juliana Venter shrieking satisfyingly into the void.
She vents into the type of nowhere that
Diamanda Galás used to scare us with, beset in a grainy storm of claustrophobia. A scourging of old school noise with operatic loopholes worming out like snaking toothpaste, their looping tendrils feedback stuttering, hypothermically chattering to a scatter of metallics. A suspended crucifixion of knotted throat over a sea of
dervished electronics and percussive plunges like a chronogramic splatter of bloody handprints on cold concrete.
“Moonunit” on side two is more restrained, as the duo affix to a reservoir of atmospheric witchiness. A slow operatic apparition of greasy dronal
rainbows porously poured, then carved up into colossal antennas of doomic fret. Murmuring monumentals that minotaur blindly under the scarring coefficient of some crimson sky. A pleasure to be savoured from the darkened safety of your living room.
-Michael Rodham-Heaps-
> Print this page
An improvised collision between W (James Welburn) and V (Juliana Venter), the first side of which (“Concave”) goes straight in there with vocal exorcism. A cathartic off-the-bone presentation that has Juliana Venter shrieking satisfyingly into the void.
