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Punish Yourself are French darkwavers. Or perhaps hardcore techno terrorists. Or maybe industrial saboteurs. Whatever tag you want to slap onto them, it's an unholy merging of man and machine that burrows into your guts like Tetsuo on a crude oil bender, rife with jagged metal edges screaming in torment, bubbling cauldrons of strange chemicals that intoxicate and paralyze, and mutating circuit boards with minds of their own. This is the future of rock and roll, if the world ends tomorrow. I am completely involved and enthralled with this CD. However, I'm not sure if that's because it really is the post-modern psychedelic mind riot I think it is, or it's just because Punish Yourself coated the disc with some kind of thought control serum. Whichever. Although you can't dance to "Disco Flesh", it does work nicely as a soundtrack for ripping out your tendons and replacing them with fiber optics, which is really the way to go anyway.
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