Prurient – Bermuda Drain Prurient – Bermuda Drain

HAHAHAHAHA!!! Holy shit, dude! This record! This record is sooooooo fucking serious. I mean, seriously. If you took every last wry smile that ever crossed M. Gira’s naked, sweating, screaming, thralling Swans era ass away. If you upped the cold dead, heroin ante of every early Wax Trax 12” player then snowballed hate jizz with their stolen Rolands. If you stole any first-drunk freshman’s break-up eyeliner poetry and rewrote it in cat placenta. If you…

Fuck it.

Dominick Fernow is the man responsible for Prurient and, for a decade or so, he’s been churning out power electronic pain screes at a rate that would be impressive if it weren’t so wholly unnecessary.

I’m sorry.

I know a lot of people (or rather, I used to…recently, I’ve tried to trade in a certain amount of peripheral grump for, say, FUN!) who relate to a feedback and shriek wall. I certainly did. Sometimes I still do. I’m not above throwing on “Just Like a Cunt” when I’m alone and in the mood to watch some German hate porn while flicking lit cigarettes at my dick. I even have some of Prurient’s other releases. I don’t know why. I imagine they were probably drunken impulse buys based on something loosely related to Youth Attack or Troubleman Unlimited.

I never listen to them, though. I tried. Lord knows, I tried. But every time I did I just kept running into the same goddamn problem…Prurient is totally fucking unlistenable.

At least, he used to be.

Bermuda Drain, Prurient’s umpteenth release (and first full-length for Hydra Head), takes a step away from the pro forma static blast/scream that was the hallmark assault of his earlier releases and veers dangerously close to melody. Don’t get me wrong. This record is still as much about psychic ear rape as anything in Mr. Fernow’s canon (though it pales next to cold, red horror of Shipwrecker’s Diary…yeesh) but by employing a cleaner mix, uber-goth keys and moribund industrial beats he’s produced a record that is almost possible to endure, musically.

Unfortunately, this sonic approach allows the listener to finally hear most everything Mr. Fernow is saying/moaning/screaming which, I think, is supposed to be poetry but reads more like a world salad of furious similes.

Take, for example, “Watch Silently,” which repeats the line “Your skin is clean like a candle/Your voice is quiet like a lantern” between skkkrrrrrs and wheeeeees with varying degrees of hateful determination.

What the fuck does that line mean? Is Mr. Fernow playing up some Ed Gein, holocaust rape fantasy? And, if that’s the case, what’s with the goldfish references?

I understand and appreciate poetry. I get that the more obtuse and obscure the metaphor employed the deeper the search for meaning but slapping words on the back end of a “like” or “as” and expecting any educated listener to swallow that as poetic is bullshit.

I blame Cold Cave.

Tracklist:

1. Many Jewels Surround The Crown
2. A Meal Can Be Made
3. Bermuda Drain
4. Watch Silently
5. Palm Tree Corpse
6. There Are Still Secrets
7. Let’s Make A Slave
8. Myth Of Sex
9. Sugar Cane Chapel

Prurient - Bermuda Drain, reviewed by Charles on 2011-08-05T10:50:50+00:00 rating 2.9 out of 5



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