Sadly this release has had somewhat of difficult release history.... it was original meant to appear on US Bane Records in July 2010, but for some reason it never really received a full and proper release. Since then it’s appeared as a self released album in a small edition by DBC himself, & then as a free D/L on noise net label Hum And Hiss Records.
Anyway enough about it’s background/ history…what it's like??. Well both tracks are fairly standard DBC fair- i.e.: pummelling, unbroken & thick HNW that batters you with-in a inch of your life. But even thorough both tracks follow the projects well beaten sonic path, I’ll have to say I find both tracks here are very rewarding in there urgency, battering intent & wholly moorish yet skin melting brutal sound attack. The first track “Fragile X Syndrome” boils together a rapid mesh of juddering, billowing and tearing tone into breath-taking sonic attack. As the track goes on it seems it's structure shifts ‘n’ ebbs with in it’s textureal layers, but I’m sure that’s this just an sonic illusion & this track is as fixed & as tight as Fort Knox.
Track two “XX Male Syndrome” seems to be mainly built around a two level judder- one judder is fast paced & chop static like, and the other ones billowing & slicing in it’s feel. DBC focus both elements into a raging, battering & crushing sonic vortex that blocks out the world around you and sucks you into a primal place. Later on with-in the tracks guts I’m sure I can make out a grating & juddering industrialized tone loop, and this really nicely focuses one mind. Again this ‘wall’ is entrancing & moorish, and when it finishers just over 38 minutes latter your very much tempted to put the track back on again & brutally submerge your self once more.
So while “Chromosomal Abnormality” neither stretchers or expands the HNW form this is an very enjoyable, uncompromising & rewarding near on eighty minute sonic battering of the finest kind. Well worth hunting this down if you’re a DBC fan, and this is as good as place for newbie’s to start.
by Roger Batty