INFIRME INFINI "MYCOPLASMA" Tape
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Pro-tape with on-body print
- Limited edition of 46
- Digital download card included
Beneath the sedimentary layers of years and human development, memory and decay.
An immense temporary chaos, an obnubilation, an expectoration and an infernal deformation.
Suicide freezes into hypothesis and real life, dead and alive, moves ahead at a legless pace. We're reduced to conjecture, and perfectly free to push things into the dark.
Ah, only the devil knows what atavistic feelings rise up in infamous expectoration in each new life.
Nature, absurd, biology, infectious, life, tainted. If only everything remained in its mineral state.
A virus of decay, a still-warm corpse riddled with hideous spasms, Infirme Infini signs its first release on Cioran Records, an abject newborn whose arrival logic should not have accepted. Like Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, Mycoplasma finishes off its creator on the altar of an apocryphal, suffocating nothingness, projected in the face of human horror, reflecting the sickening soliloquy that is peculiar to us all.
With sounds accumulating like a field of bacteria at the corner of your mouth, a culture of grime revealing details as the album progresses mechanically, Infirme Infini contaminates and decimates the listener in proliferation and prostration.
At the roots of Power Electronics, an accumulation of anomalies, noises, monstrosities, impurities, howls and madness transforms us into Shakespearean buffoons, where Infirme Infini sets a scene where prison and medical are one, where the cells of the condemned respond to the cells that make us up.
And we end up like the sparrow lost in the stairwell, frantically trying to escape, body and beak, throwing ourselves and hitting the closed windows, and dying of exhaustion, suffocation or panic on the doormat. Wretches.