Eskimo: Benzoyl Peroxide EP
Lost and Found

Eskimo's third release, Benzoyl Peroxide, is an unusual creature to say the least. The textured ripple sleeve immediately suggests it will be a different 12-inch from most, and the presumption is borne out by its four gloomy soundscapes. In place of beats the disc presents four throat-slashers heavily indebted to the music of old ‘60s and ‘70s thriller film soundtracks. Anything but aggressive, Eskimo's approach is diametrically opposed to Devane's. In “The Rub,” woozy tones drift through a congealing mass of dense noise, while occasional snippets of melodramatic piano and wavering strings hint at the music's roots before a shattering noise abruptly ends the piece. “Exhibit” resembles Ekkehard Ehlers in a particularly sour mood, as horror-film organ filigrees and a devouring bass cloud lurch across through an incinerated landscape. Drenched in encrusted static, the nightmarish EP plays like the perfect soundtrack to a suicide session.

November 2006