Ephel Duath

Talk about redefining things, Ephel Duath have not only totally outdone their past material (no small feat), they've practically created a genre with The Painter's Palette. And they occupy this mental space by themselves, the isolation no doubt helping along the psychosis needed to create music like this. If the last album was a demented electronic carnival on LSD, this one is a New York loft that you just can't help sneaking around in: go ahead, look through the crates of avant-garde jazz records, smash some plates against paintings, do some more LSD and listen to subdued electronic music. There's no one around, just a world of alienation cluttered with various artefacts of subcultures, and Ephel Duath are trying to make sense of it all. It's far more organic and human sounding than their last album, but still a convoluted nightmare. In other words, The Painter's Palette is basically unlistenable, but damn near brilliant for those who dare.