Even before we get into band names incorporating mathematical symbols, +DOG+ seem unique by my reckoning. They've issued endless CDs and vinyl records, yet still find time every so often to shove out one of these CDRs in a distinctive brown wrapper with rubber stamped artwork - might be outtakes, might be experiments which didn't make it onto an album, could be something else entirely. Also, we have the contrast of extreme electronic noise which, if the titles and artwork are an indication, follow ecological, almost folksy themes. This disc contains five tracks, each named after a woodland critter. It's not so much that it's difficult to square the howling cacophony with titles such as A Chipmunk, and A Bird - and note disarming use of the indefinite article - but it's nevertheless one hell of a puzzle. My personal take is that the titles are so at odds with the sound as to oblige one to focus on what you're hearing without the linguistic prompts which even naming everything Untitled would provide.
The noise, which varies greatly from piece to piece, seems to be entirely electronic, duplicating the crackle of broken circuits and bad connections in a way which feels paradoxically organic, even earthy, presumably hence the titles. There are elements of repetition and looping, but more as something one notices over time than noises reframed in an obviously artificial setting.
So what does it sound like, you may be wondering.
It sounds like tropical thunder, or the shifting of tectonic plates, or electrons driven into the nuclei of their own atoms inside stars; and it's difficult to listen to whilst being at the same time fascinating, and the sense of release when the machine stops is incredible; and it's weirdly relaxing just as the worst thunderstorm can sometimes be strangely comforting if you're home and dry.
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