Skum Bukit: this music is incredable. in all sensis of it the ferst tow traks holde my atnshint tmore then a albrit weeving a mall feses strwowen on a kitun florw sos to anoy the loving ants.

Modern Dance: If there was a classification for parental guidance of the ultimate kind, then this album would have to carry that warning! Whilst there are only four tracks on this album, each one is well over five minutes, and whilst it doesn't make for a massive running time, believe me, any more and you'd be seriously affected. I don't know why, but (like various tracks on the Pendro release) I'm constantly reminded of images from Hellraiser II (especially the maze, and the machine that creates the cenobites) . There is something so dark and shady laying underneath that it's almost tactile. The tracks, in order are: Tantalum Prongs, Sulphur Pavilions, Helium Veneer, and, believe it or not, Tantalum Prongs. Each piece, whilst there are no initial indications, slowly (and I mean slowly) evolve and mutate. It could be a slight oscillation, or maybe a slow phasing effect, but after a few spins of the cd the sinister personalities of each track peel away revealing several different levels of unease. Transmutation is a difficult album to come to terms with, if only for the already mentioned uneasiness. Indeed, I've already mentioned the Hellraiser connection, but perhaps the fullest and best understanding there is to accompany the pieces on this album is to imagine you're in the cenobite creator (like a lift), and the muzak that's playing in the background whilst you're waiting for the inevitable face-lift, is Cavendish Sanguine. Pleasant dreams.....

The Letterpeople: for good times...for bad times...I'll be on your side forevermore...that's what friends are for... [Sulphur pavilions]

factor 13: checked out Cavendish Sanguine. nice! wonderfully-painfully soothing... are you a Coil fan at all?

Big Block 454: Anarchy for Timperley ! (Frank Sidebottom) [Sulphur pavilions]

Aquarius Records: Cavendish Sanguine is the work of Fflint co-mastermind Barry Williams, and is certainly the least abrasive. But that's not to say it isn't harsh in its own way. Huge swarming walls of buzzing and humming, dissipate into sublime, murky low-end atmospherics. Dark pulses and repeating figures (ala Charlemagne Palestine) slowly become less and less cohesive until they too begin to drone and hum. This one is definitely for the drone minded among you. Fans of Jonathan Coleclough, Andrew Chalk, Mirror, etc.

Hoth(e): ... a journey through the liquid of the mind.... [Sulphur pavilions]

The Dark Breakfast station: Shave away that morning stubble. Manchester soundsmiths gracefully jar us into conciousness. [Tantalum prongs II]

The Brainwashed Brain: Cavendish Sanguine is an ambient alias for one half of Fflint Central Recordings, Barry Williams, who also records as Oleum and helps channeling in productions from the mysterious Berkowitz, Lake & Dahmer. This is the sound of one man who went to mow Wotan's lawn. My guess is that he used a big sharp scythe. A looped deep dark voice underpinned by unintelligible high pitched reversed chatterings comprises the door opener "Halzaphron". "Plague" seeps mournfully in flanged droning, like Eno in hell chased by the gong bashing ghosts of Plotkin and Null because they want their rare Throbbing Gristle bootleg tapes back. There are phantom organists and fiery rumbles a plenty here! Cavendish Sanguine reveals another grey world flecked with reflecting metallic mirrors where odd looking hermetic explorers summon tendrilled beasts from tombs and set them looming in places where Coil's attacking Sennapods left a trail of ectoplasmic spittle. On the penultimate "FerroCello" virtual hell breaks loose with strings attached, rising to a mutant crescendo of sonic cyber splurge. This track is all the more impressive when it's revealed that rather than heavily effect laden bowed strings, it's actually all sourced from a short short wave radio transmission minced through the digital grinder. These crusts o'vitriol would be ideal soundtracks for some horror flick set in dripping dank caverns where foul demons lurk. The entire CD-R can also be heard online at a well known MP3 site which you can find via Fflint Central. - Graeme Rowland

Inti de Manes:: Ive added PLAGUE to my station, it transport me to another state of mind.

Modern Dance: CS seemed to be honing their sound with each release to something nearing perfection and this one is the best yet. The cover's okay too, but the inside cover is sheer bliss, but that's another story. Eight slabs of worry make up this intensely fuckable album, and we kick off with Halzaphron, which manages to manipulate a couple of voice samples through 9000 degrees, adding a certain tortured and well frightening tone to said voices. Underneath all this, the shadow lurks. Plague is the second track which is a rather sad track, sad? I dunno why, but it reminds me of Hendrix teetering on the brink of feedback insanity as his soul screams through the interstellar void towards his maker with a Strat strapped on, ready to go. Hall Of Tendrils is such an apt title, imagine a hall, full to the gunnels of writhing, bulbous things continuously seeking a way out - it needs to feed, it can't, but it knows you're in there... watching. I really need to take a break from this.... South Stack reminds me of a Kraftwerk preamble, like on Autobahn. It's perhaps one of the shortest tracks by CS, and yet in it's short life it conjures up images (definitely fifties sf images) of labs and technicians - why, Christ knows, but it does. Bloodfalls is a steady wave upon wave (almost like breathing) piece that is strangely soothing (never thought I'd say that about ANYTHING from FFC!). Almost classic ambient. Mowing Wotan's Lawn and Ferro-Cello are exactly what it says on the tine. The former a kind of bastardised hybrid of percussion and synths giving the impression of huge, and I mean HUGE blades, and the latter is, literally a concrete cello (well, okay, not literally, but as near as you can get without invoking trade descriptions). The album concludes with Loomings, a dark menacing piece that is not too dissimilar to metallic breathing. What a bloody journey - take heed fair traveller, these parts are not to be trod lightly for upon yonder hill lies madness.

artificialselection:: You cornish people are weird when it comes to sound. I really appreciate this song more than most people would. This song is about change/mutating/evolution of a sound. Every time this mantra (I don't know what is being said, probably better that way) is repeated, it is slightly different, more robotic. It's like the singer slowly turns into a cyborg throughout the entire song. I'll listen to more. [Halzaphron]

Aquarius Records: Full length number two from the mighty Cavendish Sanguine (1/2 of the demented team that run the awesome UK fucked-electronic label Fflint) and it's just as good as we've come to expect from everything they put out. CS was always the moodiest, least abrasive member of the Fflint stable, and 'Vitriol Crusts' continues along the same path, taking the swarming buzzing and muted electronic skree from their previous release, and stretching it out and warming it up making this a great drone record, albeit a peculiar one. Warm waves of fuzzy hum blossom into peals of Skullflower-like high end epiphanies, stuttering hiccupping samples beat against each other until they become a sort of underwater drum-roll-drone, and melodic tones shift effortlessly making for some dark and dreamy (but still creepy) ambience. So good.

AgentA:: miles of reaching inch by inch [Hall of Tendrils]

Modern Dance: Twelve chunks of aural nightmares from the world of ol' Cavendish Sanguine. Fflint's roster of disturbed artists manage to (in their own rights) give varieties and variations of ambience, electronic witchery, and downright horror. CS manages, though, to get a good deal right when it comes to ambient horror and, usually, they're done with just the right amount of playing time. Stuff like this needs to be spoon fed, initially, not something the casual listener can dive headlong into, that is, without returning as a different person. Tracks like Rictus, Cortex Vertex, Black Pipe and Wraith should all carry, not a parental guidance sticker, but a danger, you are entering a warped universe where Crowley still lives, and Arthur Shawcross owns a restaurant. Whether it's by design, or good luck, but tracks like The Clouding Of Judgement stand head and shoulders with major league releases. This isn't just experimental music but it's a new form of expression, a new experience that continues to grow. By its nature, this stuff evolves each time you listen. Làscar, as well, will sort the men from the boys - making this one of Fflint's best releases so far.

Aquarius Records: Another installment in Fflint Central's campaign to take over the world. Or if not the world, to at least annoy the fuck out of your neighbors! For those of you just tuning in, Fflint is a small cd-r label run by a couple of guys in the UK, who manage to put out some of the best experimental electronica we've ever heard. I'm still amazed that Warp or Lo or someone hasn't just snapped up the whole Fflint stable. Cavendish Sanguine is one half of the two man Fflint empire, and 'Truculence' is record number three. Cavendish seems to fall more on the ambient side of all things FFlint. But ambient in no way means wimpy or new age. This is tough challenging stuff. Dark drones and clattering music concrete, super distorted synth washes and ear shredding white noise, pulsing rhythms and stuttering far away melodies. Abrasive and raw, but warm and hypnotic at the same time. Cavendish (and the rest of the Fflint artists for that matter) seem to have really found their own sound, a sound that allows them to go all over the map, without sounding like the millions of laptop jockeys out there, and more importantly always sounding uniquely Fflint. Highly recommended as always!

JD: Third release from CS and well worth the wait! Sounds something like Sun Ra with a cloven foot.

Aquarius Records: It's that time again. When Richard James (aka Aphex Twin) drives his tank home and holes up in his big 'ol bank/bunker and draws the shades in fear. When Autechre sit on their fire escape, listening to the mysterious strains of the latest Fflint central release drifting across the city, pondering whether it's time to just throw in the towel and head down to the pawn shop and get rid of all their gear. When Boards Of Canada realise that their days are numbered and people will only let them make the same record so many times, our favorite electronic underdogs return to show the world how it's done. And just how well it can be done without a budget or a video or magazine ads or a bunch of pats on the back from other "electronic musicians." This latest Fflint missive is the newest release from the mysterious Cavendish Sanguine. Taking elements of all the above mentioned bands, mixing in all sorts of abstract noise and random weirdness and coming up with some of the most compelling and beautiful experimental electronica we've heard. The sound this time around is slightly more 'rock' than past releases. Not rock in the traditional sense, not even remotely, but more in the sense that it sounds really organic and is less a seemingly random assortment of sounds, and more a semi-structured set of parts and songs, that at times sound like it could definitely be a band, and not just a solitary figure hunched over a keyboard in a dark corner. Mysterious and sing songy Krautrock, jangly and noisy, rambling and shambolic, gives way to shimmery skree, melodies shifting and eventually splitting apart and forming new more abstract melodies. Chirping birds and guttural Orc-ish vocalisations over a bed of keening chimes and high end swells. Abstract IDM is deconstructed into even more abstract beats, shuffling and skittering beneath shifting chords and slabs of minor key sound. Rich sheets of dense sound, layers of sweet ambience, and the metallic hum of excited strings, eventually becoming clipped and static, a hypnotic looped rhythm over accordions, crowd sounds and more bird calls. As always, amazingly good, completely baffling and totally original.

Indieville: Strange Alloys, Rare Earths is the latest album from Fflint Central act Cavendish Sanguine, and in true Fflint tradition, it occupies the creepy, dark space between electronica and noise. The tracks are based on haunting atmospheres brought on by mysterious ambiences and experimental glitch noises. Samples are also used frequently; "Bronze," for example, uses slowed-down speech clips and bird songs to create an eerie juxtaposition between evilness and innocence.

Since the majority of Strange Alloys is based on soundscapes, it doesn't exactly lend itself to general accessibility. Such a trait would be a problem, but the sincere creepiness that Cavendish Sanguine is able to create here makes for a particularly noteworthy experience.

The most "accessible" tracks on this disc would probably be "Hyderus," "Oss," and the title-track - due to the presence of rhythm in all three of them - but the beats are far from conventional. All rhythm is cold and experimental, with little variation. This just adds to the album's dark, mechanical feel. "Oss" produces a particularly interesting effect - it lays a cold, robotic thump-beat over field recordings from some sort of accordion fest. The contrast between the joyful sounds of the festival and the dark, depressing metallic rhythms are particularly sobering.

Strange Alloys, Rare Earths makes me think of grimy gears and slow-moving metal parts. If you're looking for a chilling reminder of where our world is headed, look no further. The dark experimental electronics of Cavendish Sanguine will scare you silly.

85%

Fun Fact: Henry Cavendish: "1731-1810 English scientist; discovered composition of water; developed notion of electrical potential; discovered nitric acid; devised Cavendish experiment to determine gravitational constant, density of Earth." sanguine: "consisting of or relating to blood". Matt Shimmer

Modern Dance: If, after listening to a few cds from Fflint, you need to chill , then Rare Earths is the closest you'll get (on Fflint, that is). Not exactly a marathon (just under 45 minutes) the album kicks off with Hyderus. This piece is actually the closest I've heard on Fflint to anything near to 'proper' music! It's a beautiful piece and surprise surprise, it's not scary! The superbly titled Ligature Friction is more like the odd, unusual and downright disjointed gems from yore. A creeping, tightly metallic slow fracture that's spreading across your speakers... beware. Bronze... wow! Relaxing birds chatter on a summer's evening, in the distance a low hillock beckons with ancient ruins. As you approach, a time lapse voice invades your consciousness, and lo! the demons awake. The title track features a dimensionally distorted drum and bass beat as the Devil drives through Summerisle's estate playing a slide guitar, and strange feathered things flutter in the darkening sky. Cologne Bottle Rocket is a superb ambient piece with subtleties aplenty - only a fairly short piece but like they said about Barbara Windsor, there's a lot packed in there. Abaft And Below is a theme of metallic fatigue! Metallic groans set the scene as you imagine huge monoliths of crystal growing from the scorched land - very dark and moody. The highlight of the album though has to be 'Oss. An absolutely cracking piece with an insistent beat, crowds and the odd thing is, an expectancy that bleeds from the speakers. It breaks the surface as the word OSSY is shouted. The description sounds absolutely naff, but believe me, it's one hell of a track. Strange Alloys is a well balanced album featuring sounds and moods already familiar to Fflint Ffans, but new and refreshing sounds are in there as well.

Raw Nerve Promotions: Judging by the 2 releases from Cousin Silas on the Fflint Central Recordings label, I was looking forward to hearing this album from Cavendish Sanguine who present rather a stylish looking work in the form of Strange alloys, rare earths , and an odd shape transpires during Hyderus which is largely pan-pipe led with slowed down beats and occasional jangles of odd noises. Most bizarre.

Ligature friction is a little more straight forward minimal, ambient sound, a beatless piece that mutates with much feedback by the second half of its eight minute occurance, before Bronze confuses with slowed down voices, natures sounds and small pieces of ambient chord. The re-introduction of some classy sounding beats and airy rhythms that intensify and warp as they progress makes the title track in the middle a highlight.

Pick of the rest is the distorted, looping closer 'Oss which could turn your brain inside out if you let it.

Enjoyable work here from Cavendish Sanguine on what seems like rather an interesting label.

Flux Magazine: Metallic grinds, subterranean drones, distant rumblings - percolations from Earth's core. It is no surprise to learn that this was part-recorded in Cornwall, spiritual home of the Celtic outsider, where ties with our pagan past remain strong. There's electricity in these electronics: not the type from your plug socket but the kind from the sky. This is a reminder of the links between 'civilization' and our prehistoric beginnings, that unholy matriarchy from whence we came: Mother Earth. Steven Carver