From Eugene Oregon-based Isolation Practice Cwt. is a just under twenty-minute example of grimly buffeting ‘n’ bleakly droning walled noise. This is a digital self-release from the project, and as far as I can recall is my first taste of its work.

The cover artwork takes in a murky and dark picture of what looks like inside a tomb- with stone crosses, skull-like faces, and (possibly) uncovered bodies/ grave contents. The release can be played/ downloaded here.

Going from Isolation Practice’s Facebook page, the project releases both walled noise, Power Electronics, and field recording work. The page was started in 2018, so I’m guessing the project began then too. As far as I can gather most of the project's work has been released in a digital form.

The single self-titled track featured here comes in at the 18.27-minute mark. Following on the from cover artwork the 'wall' is an extremely murky & muffled affair- with the whole having a loose rushing quality, though there are key textures at play throughout. The ‘wall’ is built around a slowly buffeting ‘n’ baying low end- this is topped by a juddering gallop, which feels both tighter and more urgent in its attack. Together these elements create a feeling of cold pelting unease, and raging-if-slightly unbalancing rushing intensity, with my mind full of images of grim rainy winter nights lit by flicker white neon, and there’s some unsavoury approaching. With the whole thing having a compelling feeling of washing and battering sonic nihilism.

You know when you’ve played a good/ rewarding wall, when you want more/ or put it on repeat, and that’s what happened with Cwt. And if you dig droning, and nihilistically buffeting ‘n’ baying wall fare you’ll enjoy this too.