tomás pérez - adjust your tracking (digital, self-released)

lift off into stereo-laser edit, fair bright whistling missiles going for ear-damage annoyance. the improv in the head-fuck dial-damage keeps you stimulated beyond the top-layered speedball restlessness. there's no rest. 

pummel lines burn/curb down into broken-up rotting polite evisceration and for-a-second go away, but slam back with more power regained at full strength and pinpoint specifically for the finishing move. 

then drums tick in for a fleeting second starting with gong-style theatre throb before cackling away in wipe-out aural maniacal let-loose pulling zero punches as all of the franticism misses and lands paralleledly. 

video game tweeter sounds crack and crunch into a handled ball that makes the sound of sheet metal warping. the freestyle noise undoubtedly shuts down the dual-play and scares off the competition. 

tangent, you'll never hear a better/harsher let it be. 

nutso chilean messery, clearly an enjoying and sneaky construction, turn it up and watch yr plants dive out of the open windows. that's a sacrifice to make when dealing with this kind-of feral oven-mitt mosquito commotion.