Dark magi Timo Van Lujik and Bart De Paepe join forces for a short-form tour de force of punishing, baddest-trip psychedelia and haunting outsider concrète. The involuted, noise-strafed guitar dirge of ‘Velloa', split across two sides, feels like an exorcism, a purging; the collective DRY HEAVING of your innermost demons (stay down!). Somehow, in spite of its overwhelming sonic density - all manic shut-in shredding, shrieking dissonance and perfectly out, pagan-wedding percussion - its overall movement is shadowy and wraith-like and not quite of solid form… yeah it gives us the CREEPS, and serves as confirmation, unneeded, of Timo and Bart's mastery of texture, tone and space. Imagine a less oxygen-starved version of Skullflower's ’3rd Gatekeeper’, or just imagine how YOU might see, hear and play if you'd been trapped in a subterranean bunker for three weeks, listening to nowt but Taj Mahal Travellers at 78rpm. While all this might sound a world away from van Luijk’s more pastel and pastoral work on La Scie Doree and with Andrew Chalk in Elodie, it shares something of the smacked-out fin de siecle decadence of Af Ursin classics like Aura Legato, and, for all its ferocity, it's an incredibly poised and otherworldly performance. An end-times essential, then, and ideal, troubled listening for anyone who was into that Crazy Doberman 7” (which we’ve just restocked!!).