...excellent racket from factrix in 1981, screechin' in a throbbin' gristle way, noise gratin' at th'edge o' chaos, slightly velvets some o' th'time(66/67 when cale was lettin' rip with th'avantisms)...a heavy disturbin' vibe informs this swill pile o' mangled rusty nails, sun baked acid madness standin' at th'periphery o' a gapin' chasm o' vile entrails...when monte cazazza comes on th'vocals theres a kinda doors groove goin' on but it don't sound like th'doors, maybe jim morrison was checkin' them from somewhere out there in th'netherworld...creakin''n chuggin' through a landscape o' neurosis, nerve endins' janglin''n fryin' with electricity, a bad drug eruption from th'ugly side o' town...distressin' visions from th'hideous truth that envelopes th'world, a mirror through which th'onlooker must pass to come to some new awareness, a new state o' conscious bein', coughin' up inflamed ulcers from th'very guts o' rock'n roll creatin' another kinda trash thats mighty fine when played with th'volume on stun...

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