Regis – Turin Versions

An excellent, albeit very elusive and limited package from Blackest Ever Black. You get live, reworked versions of tracks from the "In A Syrian Tongue" EP. Blood Witness burns the wax as it's a psychedelic hash-swirl of future-primitive drum programming and heavy-lidded, evocative drones which seem to hover over it's chasmic, booming bass shapes. The mood is that of hopelessness, yet with a dim light at the end of the tunnel. The fractured rhythm layout will immediately bring to mind the Ugandan Speed Trials 12", while the vital, and unpredictable course of the music enables the track to completely spin out of control, turning into a six minute technoid roller coaster. It's off beat, sinister and inimitably brusing, like any of Regis work. Outstanding!

The Blinding Horses (Version) is the most atmospheric, bass-possessed (and obsessed!) production of his in recent memory. The mid section is torrid yet irresistibe. So excessively noisy yet so appealing. The demented guitar riffs are a wonderful indication of Kar O'Connor's love for post punk productions and the visceral broken beats keep in tact the techno credentials. The live take here outshines the original version by miles, and in my opinion, at the time of writing this, is one of his most daring, tongue in cheek tracks. The pummeling, reverberating broken beats lead to a ridiculously mad mid section where the riffs ascend to unprecedented desert-parched soundscapes, where neo gothic monks kneel in front of monoliths. Whatever. Not an obvious floor shaker, it will most definitely shake, if not obliterate the floor, if you follow. There is hardly anyone around who makes dark and hard as pleasing as Regis.

Whoever had the idea of including Pier Paolo Pasolini's poetry with this brutal two tracker is a genius in his own right. A visionary and unsuccumbing recording artist that he is, it is only right his music gets accompanied by text fragments of one of Italy's most controversial, venerated, hated and discussed cultural figures of the past century. As much as it's a compelling read, it's also compulsory. It's a treat listening to this, it's a treat reading this and it it feels very good owning it. Obtaining a copy is hard, though, yet very worth it, as this is a vinyl exclusive, and even though Blackest Ever Black usually delivers its goods to the digital consumers, I seriously doubt you will see this on Beatport any time soon.