Japan, 1997, zeuhl / brutal prog
This album does not give you a break. Ever. Unless you count the three seconds of obligatory silence between tracks. And even then, it’s like a mockery of your hopes before the boot is put in again, the “boot” being relentless zeuhl-opera vocals, the chaotic song structures bordering on pandemonium, the frenetic, schizophrenic switches between lead instruments. Who’s in charge here?
Museum Musica 