A couple of CDRs from these great-norwesters. I hear guitars, keyboards,

effects...very in your face for the most part, but somebody's got that ol'

Frith guitar sound, so I keep listening. Fragments of speaking voices waft

by, strangled strings become computer glitches...rising and falling

crunchies...Someone singing with the radio turns into soundtracky keyboards

with guitar and telephone dialing...wait, did I hear a drum machine? Oh,

it's all flying by too fast to write down.

I heard Diaz-Infante perform live a year or so back, and these discs have

much more mass and ideas-per-minute than the set I witnessed. Not a

judgement, just an observation.

Sounds oddly like the world, filtered through ten fingers and electricity.

jeph jerman