Unspoken Misanthropic Narrator review in Vital Weekly 1073

“UnspokenMisanthropic Narrator” comes in a nicely designed digipack

This might just be the first thing ever to be released by Slovak noise act Hlukar. Since neither the CD itself, nor the label’s bandcamp page gives me much to go on, I’ll just assume it is. “UnspokenMisanthropic Narrator” comes in a nicely designed digipack that ostentatiously flaunts Hlukar’s
fascination with the Lovecraftian pantheon, even more than some of the track titles already seemto give away. A pinch of satire was also added to the recipe however; so if you’re not sick of the seemingly obligatory dose of irony in every single bloody thing these days, please do read on.
Opener Innsmouthan Necrofunk is a nattering noise piece that is quite well endowed in the low end. Judging from the title one might expect something extremely ghastly and atmospheric (yet danceable?), but closing my eyes and allowing the sounds to cook up their own imagery in my mind, the only thing that pops up is some kind of knock-off R2D2 droid tumbling into a boiling tar pit. The second track “Satanic Colostomy of the Unholy Ulnar Nerve” takes a while to get its motor running, but then it definitely has me nodding along to the rhythm. It’s a decent industrial track, somewhat in the vain of Proyecto Mirage and Mlada Fronta. Indeed sailor, ‘vintage references’ and that does reflect on the music itself.

Hlukar’s sound is very much reminiscent of that of a whole lot of classic Hands and Hymen acts – Mono no Aware, Asche, Morgenstern, Synapscape, Imminent – you get the picture. Also the third and fourth track shows Hlukar’s alignment with
the post-industrial pioneers. Filthy, syncopated beats with wayward excursions through spikes of IDM and grainy robot vomit. The fifth track (yeah, check out the torturous titles yourself and you’ll get why I can’t be arsed with the rest of them) dwells in Sonar territory and that one and the third track were easily my favourites on this mini album. If you, like me, (still) enjoy listening to a chunk of stomping post-industrial every now and then, this is an album to check out, even though the artwork might have you believe otherwise. Conversely; if you’re looking for a way to peer into the
abyss via a Lovecraft-inspired piece of sonic art, this will give you absolutely nothing. And finally, if you think Lovecraft was just a horror writer and abyssal fear is just a fictional trope he cultivated as a concept you can use to ironically refer to on you meta-modern blog that serves
as a showcase of your erudite, fragmented patchwork identity, then you clearly know nothing about ego death, and the existential fear that clings to it, at all. (PJN)

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