So Fold The Cloth crackles with static, Ploughing Out shimmers like a blanket of stars before erupting with all the panache of a particularly brilliant supernova, while Seaside, Low Tide is a woozy, off-kilter delight Falcon Eyed's thumping four to the floor beat rocks us off our hinges with its feverish krautrock leanings, and there's plenty of gothic mystery about the spectral Greta (complete with trumpet invader cutting through the dissonance) as Le Bon caterwauls
at the moon.
The screams on songs such as "Kasam Rocket," "East" and "Femur" are so loud and prolonged that they practically seep into the background - massive caterwauls
that seem to extend to infinity, all to the beat of enormous percussion.
Instead she caterwauls
like, well, a cat on a wall.
As two tall stage-side video monitors flashed jittery EKG-like images of shifting, popping jagged lines, Yorke's swooping vocals push their limits, running from a warm gentleness one second into weird caterwauls
and anguished wailing the next.
A cat caterwauls
a sexual brand of labor over a wall I never intend to pass.