I JUST PUT MY FACE THROUGH A METAL GRATE. YOU KNOW, LIKE THE ONES THEY USE TO CAGE UP DOGS.
HERE’S HOW I DID IT.
SO OBVIOUSLY, IT STARTS WITH SLAMMING YOUR FACE AGAINST THE METAL OVER AND OVER AGAIN. IT HURTS A LOT AT FIRST, BUT ONCE THE FLESH GETS SLOUGHED OFF, IT REALLY ISN’T THAT BAD. AFTER THAT, IT’S JUST A MATTER OF APPLYING A CONSTANT, BUILDING, FORWARD ORIENTED PRESSURE AGAINST THE CAGE. JUST BE SURE TO GRIND r e p e a t e d l y AND t h o r o u g h l y IN AN ALTERNATING c l o c k w i s e AND c o u n t e r – c l o c k w i s e MOTION. YOUR EYES USUALLY BURST PRETTY QUICKLY, BUT IF THEY DON’T START POPPING RIGHT OFF THE BAT, THEY’RE GUARANTEED TO BE A MESS BY THE TIME YOUR SOCKETS START FRACTURING. THIS BRINGS ME TO MY NEXT POINT. THE FRONT OF YOUR SKULL’S ACTUALLY PRETTY FRAGILE WITH ENOUGH FORCE APPLIED TO IT IN THE RIGHT PLACES. THE STRUCTURE THAT MAKES IT UP KIND OF JUST STARTS SPLINTERING AND FRACTURING- AND FROM THEN, IT’S REALLY JUST A MATTER OF SIFTING THROUGH THE WRECKAGE OF YOUR SKULL, GRABBING PIECES OF YOUR BRAIN, AND SQUEEZING THEM THROUGH THE HOLES IN YOUR CAGE.
The world is collapsing around us. It has been for years, but now it’s really, really going to shit. The Fortress we’ve built on this foundation of scum is finally being consumed by itself. And as the stones fall into the pit, some of us are denying the sorry state we find ourselves in, some are despairing, and some are shooting adrenaline and plunging right into the void. I’d like to think that Machine Girl is DJ’ing the rave at the bottom of the pit, reserved only for those who’re loaded up and ready to writhe, maim, fuck, and kill to the demented hell-music that they make.
Any attempt to classify their music would be pointless. Seriously, skip the review for now and just listen to anything off U-Void Synthesizer and you’ll get the picture. It’s this crazy schizo all-at-once full frontal attack on your ears that the brain can’t even intellectualize because before you know it you’re at the Home Depot® buying fertilizer, gasoline, styrofoam, and screaming napalm at the punk cashier about how you knew how all this was coming—you saw it online.
It’s an electrifying listen, with the first track, The Fortress (The Blood Inside…), launching into an all out assault that’ll leave you dead in an alleyway, torn apart by a pack of feral dogs. The momentum doesn’t stop there. Everything about this album is dizzyingly, nauseatingly over-the-top. The hyper-reality evoked in the music is a terrifying one, but one that is begging to be destroyed. It just so happens that the music also gets you in the mood to do some ultraviolence.
To an untrained ear, this shit might sound like a relentless bludgeoning. And to be fair, it kind of is one, but there’s so much more going on here than just an auditory beatdown. When you’re not getting double-teamed by the combo of drum machines and Sean Kelly’s live drumming, the face-melting guitars and pulsing dance beats courtesy of Matt Stephenson are overwhelming you at every turn. Any brief moments of respite would be found in feverish, bouncy club numbers like Scroll of Sorrow and Devil Speak.
If you haven’t figured it out yet already, this is a great album, dumbass, already one of the best of the year. U-Void Synthesizer is an evolution of everything Machine Girl has created up until this point, implementing their infectious-as-COVID-19 dance beats with absolutely vile and toxic lyrical delivery. Listen to it or die. Listen to it and die. Listen to it. Die.
Support the artist, clown.
Jake Davis is a Cal Poly Journalism senior and a KCPR staff member. Image credit to Machine Girl.