KHOST

Buried Steel COLD SPRING

Industrial dystopias from the Birmingham city epicentre

Khost’s fourth album feels like being facially sandwiched between cold concrete and a forceful boot. The clang and tremor of their Birmingham industrial hinterland remains paramount, like a Godflesh-ian nightmare, yet a constant dark electronic sizzle runs throughout. Apparently a fire impacted recording, which led to the rescue and use of some damaged analogue elements. Whatever happened, corrosion is afoot, the sonic degradation aided by eldritch spoken-word samples, not least from Oxbow’s Eugene Robinson. ■■■■■■■■■■

FOR FANS OF: Godflesh, Scorn, Voices

DEAN BROWN