My name is MICHAEL F. HOUSEL, author of THE HYDE SEED, THE PERSONA #1 & #2; and MARK JUSTICE'S THE DEAD SHERIFF #4: PURITY. My short fiction is featured in RAVENWOOD, STEPSON OF MYSTERY #4 & #5; THE PURPLE SCAR #4; and THE PHANTOM DETECTIVE #2. My additional works can be found in Eighth Tower's DARK FICTION series and Main Enterprises' WHATEVER!; PULP FAN; MAKE MINE MONSTERS; SCI-FI SHALL NOT DIE; THE SCREENING ROOM; *PPFSZT!; and TALES FROM GREEK MYTHOLOGY.
Monday, December 16, 2019
ADARKAH IANQU'S MUTATE!!!
It's astounding how prolific Adarkah Ianqu is and how much his electronic compositions magnetize my ears.
Mutate is yet another terrifying tour de force that captures bodily (and one can presume, mental) alterations. In this instance, Ianqu's motive spews science-fictional themes, which I've come to know and love, many of which are more hierarchical than accursed, at least to one of my--and I'm assuming your--eccentric ilk.
Mutate's first track, "abject" is a profound prelude to the artist's extensive intent, carving a grovelling affection for Kafka-esque stories in a sweeping, ten-minute spree that not only locks you down, but opens your mind for the strangest change.
At "abject'"s conclusion, you're eager for the wafting "frankincense": a scent that makes your limbs firm yet malleable. The twenty-minute aroma tingles of "The Tingler"; "The Relic"; "The Fly"; "The Thing"; "The Blob"; "Invasion of the Body Snatchers"; "Horrors of Spider Island"; "Queen of Blood"; and "Alien". Breathe it all in and grow, grow, grow!!! The sounds have the means to make you something more or less (wink, wink) than you were.
Following this fragrant spree is the near culmination of your new shape, symbolized by the "squeamishness" that onlookers emote. You are Sil from "Species" or Dren from "Splice": attractive in an extraterrestrial way, but also lethal because of it. Those who see you may want to flee, but against better judgment stay to see how far you'll nibble.
"Holy bread" is the communion that the spectators accept after they've been absorbed. Their residue acts as fuel for your fire, giving further chance for other limbs to sprout. An explosion of thoughts and emotions then surface, tightening your creepy collective.
Once the soothing "holy bread" seals your constitution, it's time to cocoon through "calaboose", while contemplating your voracious infiltration. With this comes a need to be "timid", where you accept your virulent deeds: traits of mutating life (and death), spawned to progress the new, enduring you.
Ianqu's Mutate is fascinating, scary and ferocious, as good as the best transforming, audio science fiction be. Become one with the evolutionary transmission at
https://adarcahianku.bandcamp.com/album/mutate?fbclid=IwAR12MM0xsX4gY0JQ2KIDg3JAGlyIiYwxcg4aIRm8Q2G-u-v_IhYGn8MARS4.
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