Over the course of the third millennium's first decade, the project known as steadily emerged as one of this extreme genre's most consistent, prolific, and visionary artists, thanks to a slew of albums and split releases featuring an unlikely blend of expertly conceived songwriting and intentionally , even amateurish production standards. But while in the past this undoubtedly strange contradiction in terms never seemed like anything but an advantage for 's reclusive and mysterious mastermind, , the bellicose Californian may have gone and blown up his chemistry lab with 2007's . Quite possibly named that for a reason, the album feels surprisingly chaotic and under-inspired, with the opening shambles of (a drunken, stunted fragment of an idea) prefacing a whole string of conspicuously unfocused, dare we say somewhat unfinished-sounding tracks (see etc.), whose nebulous chimes, shuffling zombie rhythms, and horrified cries emanate from the depths in alarmingly lifeless fashion. Sure, "lifeless" may have been the actual plan here, but the fact remains that 's undead corpse doesn't really start rattling the old coffin with convincing violence -- nor enough of his his always spine-chilling, ultra-distorted shrieks -- until the fifth track in, (which is reminiscent of earliest, uncompromisingly inaccessible ). And for an artist who staked much of his reputation on expansive, multi-faceted epics, only pushes past the eight-minute mark for 's closing triplet: the first of which, combines stellar moments with inexplicably off-tempo passages; while the second and third, and generally revert to the aforementioned, tiresomely minimalist approach. So what gives? Did have a particularly bad day down at the cemetery, or are these inferior leftovers assembled from previous recording sessions, perhaps? Difficult to say, and certainly will likely be as "mum" on the subject as he ever is, if asked; but the bottom line is that feels like a rare misstep on 's long, and mostly triumphant road to Hell. ~ Eduardo Rivadavia