Bleep

Pharmakon marks the tenth anniversary of her Pharmakon project with the tormented assault of Contact, six tracks that translate to be one of the most intensely addictive and harrowing experiences to emerge from the industrial canon this year.

Having previously scarred our psyche with Abandon (2013) & Bestial Burden (2014), Margaret Chardiet has kept a relatively low profile in the past few years, saving her creative output for occasional speaker splitting live shows, the intervening studio time since Bestial Burden has resulted in her most nerve-shredding vision yet. Much like the work of fellow NYC artist Prurient, Pharmakon's use of vocals within the constantly forming tidal wave of drowning electronics and feedback induced suffocation makes for a harrowing listen that some may find replant, for those willing to give themselves over can expect to be buried deep within a sea of jet black oil.

Luring us into a false sense of security, the ominous rumbles that slowly uncoil during the album's first few seconds slowly whip up into a frenzy before the blood-drenched vocals cascade over the scraping metallic rhythms. The album splits itself between darkside drones and feedback encased screeched vocals through to the volume dial at 11 ear-bleeding washes of violent mentasms.

Throughout Contact Pharmakon constantly grinds down any notions we may have of what noise and power electronics should sound like within 2017 and turns in a richly produced album. One that cuts through the whitenoise of all others operating in this field with such intensity that each second can't help but electrify every single inch of your skin.