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That 35-minute opus was christened Born on the Fourth of July, a punishing solo electronics-manipulation album out on S.F.'s Resipiscent Records. It's a total assault of desultory, menacing squalling, from start to finish. There aren't any recognizable instruments, and the sounds that might have started out as vocals have long since been tortured into electrocuted chunks of lung by the time they hit your ears.
"My stuff in Comets is more rehearsed and planned out, but with my solo shit there's just chaos and a totally random outcome, where you start with whatever sound comes out first and manipulate it from there. It's abstract and improvisational ... There is phrasing and tonality, but nothing is planned."