Nothing is Coming

Knifework’s first transmission is a short, wonderfully diseased little machine: lo-fi old-school EBM circuitry, rusted industrial muscle, propulsive krautrock synth improvisations, minimal techno hypnosis and strange pockets of ambient nowhere-space, all stitched together with the logic of a malfunctioning dream. Synths crawl, pulse, sweat, accelerate. Rhythms appear from behind concrete. Little electronic ghosts flicker between the machinery. Inventive. Addictive. Spooky. Weirdly playful. And terribly, terribly brief. Before you fully understand what kind of place you’ve entered, Nothing is Coming is already gone—leaving only warm circuitry, phantom movement and a suspicious stain on the floor. A truly superb first apparition from Knifework. -Sir Kuliktavikt