The first track, Tinto Brass, marries a fizzing top end, with a really hard bass undercurrent. The pace is fast, and the strong, low drone trundles along to generate a good sense of relentlessness. There’s a convincing meatiness to the piece, a thickness, without the wall ever really becoming overwhelming, or aggressive - and this is aided by the larger chunks of masonry that lumber in and out of view. The high-mid frequencies are, at points, almost a near-wash, often reminding the ear of the sound of tearing paper.

The second work, Joe D’Amato, is a more dread-filled wall, mainly due to it being dominated by lower frequencies. It has a distinct swirling movement to it, with delicate treble crackle dancing over the more rampaging bass. The most noticeable element though, is the layer of rhythmic popping sounds that weaves in and out of the track. Whilst only just audible for long passages, these pops literally jump out of the speakers in other sections, flitting from left to right, and following apparently random rhythmic patterns. At their strongest, they might be perhaps twice as loud as the wall beneath, and indeed, it sounds like they disrupt the wall with every pop - in fact, the wall takes on a stuttering, rhythmic stance of its own. The odd thing, is that it sounds to my ears exactly like a skipping/malfunctioning CDR; it has the same ‘hollow’ timbre and monotony. So, I don’t know if this is something very unusual that Sumbru has done, to jar the listener, or if there’s a more curious explanation…

Sumbru is a dependable project, and this is another dependable release. Tinto Brass is particularly enjoyable, but the odd pops on Joe D’Amato remain jarring. If they’re deliberate, it’s an odd experience; if it’s an accident, it’s odd and unfortunate. The cassette itself is dubbed very quietly: I had the volume twice as high as I would usually put it. This had the unexpected consequence of turning the blank tape after both tracks into a very minimal piece of ANW…