Review Summary: The door is open. Step in. The door is closed.
Instrumental music lends itself to produce cinematic experiences. The music must stand on its own, but it is capable of creating very specific imagery that make you feel like you are
watching something in your mind. Music of this kind can turn someone autistic for brief period of time. Music of this kind is not hard to find, but sometimes these works are lost in their pretensions, are often nebulous, disjointed or weird for the sake of being weird. Clear vision of its intention and skillful execution of that vision are key elements that are, most often than not, missing.
Feed The Tape is always on the edge of losing the listener, it can easily be too haunting, too unsettling... but it always catches you when you are about to fall off.
Constructed around schizophrenic repetition, the music is obscure and sinister, menacing at points, almost martial in tone, but it is never so overwhelming or violent that it breaks the desired immersive, contemplative effect. It takes the listener by surprise, grabs him by the throat and forces him to look him in the eyes. The listener is then induced to an almost hypnotic state by pounding industrial rhythms, then processed sounds take the form of ghostly drones, sweeping orchestral-like effects come in and instantly disappear, layers of sounds are systematically added to create tension, seemingly random sounds assault your senses. Hentschel control the dynamics, the outcome, the drama; he is in command of this twisted act at all times. When you think a track ends, it starts over again or it abruptly end or mutates into something else or it is trapped in a never ending loop. The compositions all
seem to follow one formula, yet you never know what is going to happen next. However, at some point amidst this disorienting darkness, you finally start to get acquainted to it;
Feed The Tape is figured out. "Florence" comes in and it is over. You kneel before its magnificence, and gladly let the final track destroy you. "What's Going On", the last track. Very clever. You win, Orson Hentschel. Bravo. Masterful.
