Regis - Gymnastics

I hate this album.

I hate to aodre it.

For starters, I just despise being aware of the mere fact that "Gymnastics", the debut album by Karl O'Connor AKA Regis, runs on for only thirty eight minutes and some change.

It's so ugly, menacing, arrogant and convinced of its own supremacy over just about any so-called hard techno release. And I always felt at unease with music that could put to test the rest of my collection. I just hate the way in which it makes a sunny day turn all cloudy and grey.

Regardless of how high up is the heating turned, the mechanical and harsh coldness will always send cold sweat up and down my spine. And I hate it. That too.

The monotonous and driving, percussive and granulating patterns of sound extinguish every other piece of sorrounding space and volume around me. Time becomes irrelevant - I'm lost within its endless plethora of combinations. I just HATE it when the CD is over and I have no idea where I'm at!

What I hate the most is that "Gymnastics" really has no time and place. What gives? How can I love something that is so unbreeched by foreign and earthly factors?

How can a simple terrestrial comprehend such overwhelming musical structures that reach far beyond clubs and home listening sessions?

Where almost everything else falls within the category of decaying beauty, this one just prevails and refuses to rust. So I've been hating it for that since day one as well.

In fact, to rescue you from an infinite dimension of hate, feel free to drop off your copy at my place ;-)