Fuck Buttons

FUCK BUTTONS
Street Horrrsing
All Tomorrow's Parties

Despite their eyebrow-raising moniker's aggressive overtones, the Bristol, England, duo of Andrew Hung and Benjamin John Power want little more than to give your cerebellum a therapeutic, thoroughly intense sound massage. With Street Horrrsing, these Fuck Buttons engineer a sort of reverse, photo-negative, canary-in-a-coal-mine scenario, threading strands of coruscating, blackened noise, exotic percussive matrices, and mutilated, near-unrecognizable vocals through buzzing, humming synth enclosures.

The album is presented as a flowing whole loosely segmented into six movements, most of which near or exceed the 10-minute mark; as such, one can lose track of linear continuity with astonishing ease—not to mention one's own location on this particular Street. Did you lose your keys somewhere back in the morphing afterburner drone of "Race You to My Bedroom—Spirit Rise"? Kowtow to mellow panhandlers during "Colours Move" as thumping, clipped drum patterns gradually boom-boomed the two-note blare out of the foreground? Run from stray dogs as spine-tingling, rabid-hyena wildout "Ribs Out" savaged your synapses? Exchange cash for a baggie as "Sweet Love for Planet Earth" eclipsed from floaty, Ativan reverie to swollen, mescaline mindfuck? More importantly, who cares? Hit play again.