Nothing helps wind down the day like an inner earache, which is exactly what you can expect after spinning up the latest 7" single from Greece's Krause. Krause is an oppressively heavy noise rock band, who produce tunes about as good for your long term health as the smoke streaming off of a raging tire fire. Like an Amphetamine Reptile Records endorsed cohort, partially disfigured in a bold escape attempt from a county jail, executed by hiding in the back of a truck delivering industrial cleaning chemicals which is then dramatically upended during an ill-timed attempt merge into oncoming traffic, Krause are impossibly ugly while clinging to life in resentful and mulish defiance of their hideous swollen forms. There are only two tracks on this 7" but I'll tear out the nail on my big toe if that isn't enough to give your ear-canal a nice and itchy, chaffing peel. "Vague Outlines of Almost Recognisable Shapes" straps into the driver's seat of a Killdozer rumble-groove, pulled uphill by a menacing sludge-tarred baseline, a starling charge caped in the manic chide of a blues-barbarian shout that wields a skyscraper-sized lightning bolt in the form of a static-bomb guitar solo in one hand and a clap of fuzz-demon feedback in the other. The amusingly titled b-side "The Fraternity of Lost Men-Children" follows with a mean and gritty Unsane groove and a bass and drum double-teaming that bays against your mind like it is attempting to pull loose the last few threads of the ramshackle tapestry of your reality so that it can fall away like a shroud riddled with minute portholes by the mouths of thousands of hungry moths, a sad veneer of dignity destined to relinquish its place and reveal the sucking void beneath. Krause is as ugly as they come. Consider this a warning.
