The tape itself look pretty mint. Neon green cassette, with on shell printing and a j-card that keeps things real minimal. If I was haplessly browsing a record store, I’d probably be inclined to take a chance on this just because it looks so damn cool.

The cover says “living computer music,” but Slime of the Chasm sounds more like an extended slog of looping tape drones. When I think living computer music, I usually envision software based noise or sci-fi analog synth improvisations. Of course that little tag on the cover could be meaningless...a rouse.  Anyway what I got out of it was: high end drone, a loop of some kind of sputtering, hissing exhaust, random sounds of knocking and something dragged through debris, and subtle chirping; all ensconced in degraded tape charm. I all ebbs and flows, but ultimately becomes a layered cluster of sounds. The whole affair kind of doesn’t know where it wants to end and peters out a few times in the track’s final minutes. Though no harm done. Just leave it alone, let the cassette flip, and we start from the beginning again.

A really slow and steady kind of offering. It’s what I like to call good road noise music. The kind of stuff you listen to on a long drive in the middle of nowhere, just zoning out to the music on repeat.