Halo — Degree Zero Point of Implosion

Slow? Morbid? Noisy? Abrasive? Desparate? Destructive? I suppose all these words aptly describe the musical sludgefest of Degree Zero Point of Implosion, to the extent that you may actually feel abused listening to it. Hailing from the apparently gloomy Fitzroy, Australia, HALO exists as the discordant counterpart to the beautiful dreampop adventures of Skye Klein’s other main project, A Beautiful Machine. The band members do not only suffer from creative diarrhea of the third degree, the amount of sickness this record projects suggests a certain amount of mental imbalance. I’m not sure how many drugs were incorporated in the album’s creation, but I suspect a tad more than what their psychiatrists initially recommended.

Some bands are happy just to piss people off; get a few heads banging; break a few guitars; make small children cry or what not. However, I don’t think HALO are quite satisfied till the walls crack and the earth opens beneath them, not until buildings crumble and the masses beg for mercy. Their music consists of thick, bassy barrages of constant distortion, screams and noisy cymbals, now and then interrupted by spacy industrial clatter or tremulous ambient drones. No matter what ugly musical term you might employ to describe them – crust, sludge, noise or industrial – HALO really acts as the demonic synergy of them all, and whether this fills you with joy or makes you want to sink yourself slowly into acid and have barbed wire shoved in your ears, I’m sure HALO are happy. Not.

This record is definitely not for everyone. But those of you who seek diseased and dissonant music, feel like destroying your speakers, or are just plain pissed off and fed-up with the world, I have one word to describe it: yum. Also, feel advised to pick up their new album on Relapse Records, or find them on tour with Godflesh.