Review Summary: Cerberus' dog whistle.
Plague Mother's work is never pleasant to listen to, but with the
possible exception of
The Faithful Supine,
Lavender in Flame is arguably the Wisconsin power electronics pedlar's most aurally demanding creation. Opening with an ear-splitting peal of obnoxiously high sine waves, both sides play on the conjunction of this whistle and of crunching, unforgiving blocks of white noise. The effect of this pairing is something deeply unsettling, even when overlooking the obvious initial physical barrier. The whistles, akin to shrieks, sound pained and desperate when breaking through the thick blocks of distortion. Remove the blocks, 'save the tortured' as it were, and you realise that the entity you thought you were saving turns its sadistic mind on you instead.
The aforementioned admittedly does give the impression of this being a wholly impenetrable piece, completely without merit or purpose further than auditory masochism. As it happens,
Lavender in Flame isn't totally unlistenable (although it does require plenty of initial substance to get through it all first time around). Inspecting closer, the seemingly monotonous whistles are filled with small glitches; little industrial grinds and miniscule changes in frequencies that give what would otherwise be flat, boring noises dimension and shape. The white noise is hardly a simply on/off affair either, and along with the dynamic changes implemented, there are several distinct 'pitches' to each that provide them with their own discernible characteristics. Some are 'safer', allowing the listener to hide slightly in their lower, thicker timbre, while the slightly thinner, higher walls are more vulnerable, allowing the sines to perform their aforementioned deceptive work. For those that allow themselves to be immersed in what is undoubtedly an uncomfortable experience,
Lavender in Flame has a surprising amount to offer from such a small package.
