After releasing one of the best albums of 2009 the Pittsburgh-based act Prometheus Burning were poised to be the darlings of the current Industrial scene. They had a great home amongst the impressive Crunchpod roster and were garnering a massive amount of praise for their musical prowess and diverse palate. Then came news that Crunchpod was switching to a digital-only formula, forsaking the era of physical CD copies. ProBurn is the sort of act that not only prides itself on the music but the visual aspects of their efforts including the artwork contained within a hard copy fans can cherish. They decided to self-release their latest effort, which is a gamble in and of itself. Beyond that they’ve opted to put forth their most diverse work to date, encompassing a wide variety of styles while still maintaining an essence that is unmistakably Prometheus Burning. Even so, it threatens to alienate those who found their last release, plague against huMANity, cohesive and satisfying.

Every act has its influences and many showcase them in an all too obvious manner. The duo of Greg VanEck and Nikki Telladictorian certainly celebrate the music that has inspired them while maintaining a voice that is clearly their own. As such, it becomes increasingly difficult to pigeonhole the sound of ProBurn in one of those easily digestible buzzwords we’ve come to rely upon such as “Industrial” or “Powernoise” or “Glitch.” Suffice it to say this is an act whose aural assault is akin to waking up in the middle of the embalming process and wondering where you left your heartburn medication. Even when there are elements of traditional Synth contained within a particular song structure it cannot be underscored that the ProBurn experience is nothing short of uneasy listening, particularly given Nikki’s harsh, altered vocal style which some might consider an acquired taste.

“Violator [v2]” picks up where plague left off, adding an even more layered density to their sonic assailment as well as quite an aggressive stance with which to open an album. The momentum carries through to “Suffering In Silence,” which is perhaps a bit too similar to its predecessor. It almost seems like a remix of the first track. “Mindbenders” is the sort of crunchy club track DJs salivate over when they’re looking to inject something with a little more corrosive punch into the mix. The track has no vocals but it does incorporate an X-Fusionesque, simplistic yet reverberatingly hard rhythm along with some cryptic voice samples and plenty of infectious ephemera along with a great breakdown toward the end.

Things really begin to pick up beginning with the fourth track, “Anonymous Death Threats,” which features lyrics culled from actual threats posted on Telladictorian’s blog last year. The song oozes plenty of menacing bass and heavily distorted vocals that seethe with vitriol during the “Welcome to the Industry…” chorus chant. This is probably one of the best pieces ProBurn has yet assembled and they follow that up with a droning noise number a la the Los Angeles act W.A.S.T.E. “Unpleasant Presence” is just that; a spacious, nightmare soundscape with plenty of banging, clanging and moody atmosphere. “Flesh Addict” has an Eighties feel to it, though it’s far more virulent than most anything you can remember from that decade.

The first half carries sufficient weight to keep you enthralled through the second, even as the material offered isn’t quite as strong. “Victim Complex” is a spacey, cyber-instrumental while “Left Hand Down” carries a lot more ambiance with a hushed vocal delivery and plenty of glitch. A two and a half minute foray into noise territory marks “The Ultimate Evil” and the set is rounded out by an overly long cut-and-paste remix of “Violater” by Belgium’s Imminent. A bonus track is included, simply titled “October.” It’s a remnant from 2003, rediscovered on an old hard drive that the act decided to share. Essentially it’s about eight minutes of drawn out, unsettling feedback that long time admirers will certainly find of interest.

Displacement Disorder is packaged in a plastic DVD case and comes with a bonus CD featuring thirteen tracks from an alternate project called Four Pi Movement that focuses primarily on ambient noise made with modular and hardware devices. Prometheus Burning is the sort of act that can attract people who prefer their electronic music less abrasive but are willing to go there if the work is impressive. And the crowd that likes a solid, stomping wall of distortion also find plenty of appeal in this outfit’s range of static, slithering sounds. While not quite as strong as its predecessor what ProBurn have put forth is an involving and ultimately satisfying collection of songs that has been packaged up in an affordable and accessible way for fans to digest slowly over time. Once the initial run of 500 copies sells out, which it seems guaranteed to quickly accomplish, the music will still be available as a download on Bandcamp and FiXT.

- Christopher Roddy, DarkTwinCities

Razorblade Society reviews Displacement Disorder in their latest episode, along with the new Frontline, Android Lust, Cynotic, and more (ProBurn review starts at 2:40). Check it out!

Industrial CD review show // August 2010 from Razorblade Society on Vimeo.

It’s always heartwarming for a reviewer when a band comes into their own, and Prometheus Burning have done so in spades with “Plague Called HuMANity”. While their rhythmic noise roots are hardly forgotten, there’s an occult twinkle in this duo’s eyes that’s akin to Skinny Puppy at their most arcane… and yet they manage to never feel ‘retro’ while clearly citing such influences. Their cover of Ministry’s seminal “You Know What You Are” may conclude this disc, yet it’s sinister bass synth descendant supercedes and emphasizes this sonic lineage in “Blackmagick Tongue”, where Nikki Telladictorian’s nasal cries and a stuttering typewriter beats tangle with crusty film samples and cawing metallic synths. Still, even when Telladictorian’s Kali-like presence remains absent, her partner Greg VenEch proves even his hoarse whispers can leave moments like the crackling, snare-chewing “Realm Of Thee Divine” equally haunting. Though Telladictorian certainly dominates this disc, all of ProBurn’s best features can be found in “Ouroboros Deathride”, an epicenter which allows VenEch’s hypnotic hiss, Telladictorian’s pointed wails, and fuzzy analog disco riffs to coalesce into a catchy morsel of controlled chaos. While there seems to be a general renaissance of electronic bands vying for intelligence over club marketability, “Plague Called HuMANity” is even exceptional in that esteemed field.

VM (8/9), Side-Line

The Crunch Pod label has, it seems, cornered the market in nearly-but-not-quite experimental releases that are accessible enough to have a (fairly) wide appeal & yet are always surprising & offbeat enough to keep you on your toes. This release, from the duo of Nikki Telladictorian & Greg VanEck, is probably the best example I’ve heard of how successful a refusal to play by the rules can be with a style that is by turns inventively rhythmic, abstract, darkly atmospheric & overtly melodic while Nikki’s equally unique effected vocals add an almost punky edge. This is best borne out by ‘Realm Of Thee Divine’ where a number of disparate elements are combined, like an imperfect musical jigsaw, to make for a feel that is offbeat yet ultimately accessible enough for anyone who’s not expecting anything too easy-on-the-ear. The preceding title track offers another demonstration of how to sound innovative without any rampant experimentalism while ‘Deluge’, likewise, moves through a number of changes, from its abstract atmopsheric opening, through a cacophonous rhythmic barrage & on to an almost majestic latter half, although the continuing underlying rhythmic cascade provides a strong counterpoint as well as a continual impetus. In contrast, ‘Genovese Syndrome’ offers an altogether harsher aspect with some muscular rhythms providing a potent backbone for some scything lead sounds. Having said that, a bit of patience is in order as the opening double header of ‘The Box (Whispers From Within)’ & ‘Mother Of Abominations’ come across as clever rather than enjoyable, not really setting the world alight & it’s only with the mutated guitar riffs that form the basis of ‘Blackmagick Tongue’ that really engage the mind. This is probably the closest that the original tracks get to their stated Ministry influence, although there’s also a cover of ‘You Know What You Are’ which is actually on track 69, at the end of the album (I’m guessing, or should that be hoping, there’s some reason beyond the obvious for this!), offering a satisfying closer by combining an assertive bassline with steady, strong supporting rhythms in a manner that characterized a number of tracks, not least. But for all these accessible moments that innovative edge is still present to keep you from becoming too complacent with ‘The Weeping And Gnashing Of Teeth’ sounding like a mutated old-skool synthpop track put through the industrial grinder while the short piano-led interlude that is ‘False Prophets’ leads directly into ‘Confronting Pandora’ which seems to be the duo’s one concession to dancefloor considerations, coming closest to the the popular electro sound with a typically dancey, synthetic feel but while it may get them widespread dancefloor appeal the album offers far more than that, striking the perfect blend between the innovative & the accessible.

- Carl Jenkinson [7/10], Hard Wired

“Hope is the only good god remaining among mankind;
the others have left and gone to Olympus.
Trust, a mighty god has gone, Restraint has gone from men,
and the Graces, my friend, have abandoned the earth.
Men’s judicial oaths are no longer to be trusted, nor does anyone
revere the immortal gods; the race of pious men has perished and
men no longer recognize the rules of conduct or acts of piety.”
Theognis of Megara 6th century BC

…And that was all what left inside the box after Pandora opened it, she accomplished her destiny as the ultimate guile play ever performed by the gods against mankind. This conceptual meandering is what the famous Pittsburgh based duo represented by femme fatale Nikki Telladictorian and his partner in crime Greg VanEck has reserved for us to be contaminated with, their latest album released on the ever brilliant Crunch pod label. The cover artwork couldn’t be any more eloquent, the instant before the box is about to be opened before us and what about the music? Well it is a literal commission from a cyber-punk standpoint over such a legendary and complex mythological play. Who the fuck else has done something like this with this type of music? I tell you who, No one. Their overly energetic ensemble goes all the way reflexive over the topic referring mankind and its apocalyptical destiny that gets more and more evidence and less of a theory.

Everything on this conceptual work is caustic, noisy, gritty, edged, so don’t expect gentle sequences to cover in lollipops your dance floor, this is an industrial override as the ancient (now forgotten) forefathers from the Electro and EBM used to consider and implement their works, more than simple entertainment, this is pain disguised in deranged and riveted synths, jagged analogue sequences, demented junkyard breaks, sado-distorted female shrieks and a drop or two of an acid bad trip represented in the faithful adhesion to the old school formula, the general atmosphere and the lyricism introduced; Ultimately meant to be mean and rude with a definable clarity in the rhythmic section that achieves to conduct the listener to the proper mood of frantic convulsions and imperishable concentration over the course of each track. Some influences come to mind: Leather strip in the sequence style employed, Clock DVA on the more sinister and left handed mood, the crazy and uncompromised psycho driven compositional values from Skinny Puppy, twisted and demented structural changes and abrupt cuts, the harpy driven voice command from Genitorturers and finally the monolithic slow paced beats and fatty analogues from early Ministry. Add to that repertoire their own set of fundamental rhythmic noise recipe constructed entirely over a vast arsenal of rude synthesizers transformed in such beasts by the malignant hand of their owners. The textures and frequencies from the sequences limit with extreme electronics at times while the harshness and crudeness from their torrent of multi rhythmic breaks comes as the works of a mechanic foundry running at maximum capacity. In this aspect the band remits to memories from the UK based band Leech Woman, sharing perhaps a bit of that incendiary sense for mixing typical industrial clanging in a hectic array of beats and rhythmic layers, only difference is the quality of the texture from Prometheus Burning which is exceptionally virulent and their breaks share space for varied dynamics familiar with IDM.

There is different moods and constant tempo variation during the course of the work. The first two tracks come as a storm but then darkness slowly engulfs it all, first with “Blackmagick Tongue” and then with the occultist themed “Ouroboros Deathride”, more sinister and less frantic and backing off the female front vocals to the chorus and residing the male ones on the first plane, whispering its anathema in a faded voice. “False Prophets” comes as macabre, slow paced instrumental that serves perfectly as a stated interlude, then the work retakes on a punching set of beat and gripping analogue sequences on “Confronting Pandora” that adds an acidic guitar chords amongst the synth driven riffs. Tracks 9 & 10 re-heightens the principles on velocity and jammed rhythms and prepare the way for the decline that inevitably approaches with the melancholic delayed cyber punk ballad “Elpis (Hope is not enough)”, indeed, as the terrible malediction released upon mankind, hope just comes as another sinister anathema. So the carnival of death masques is over, only to return back from the dead after 57 blank tracks with a re-vamped idolization on “You know what you are” from Ministry which is a decent cover but not mind-blowing. A critic would be the linearity from the female vocals as product of the relentless modulation and by preserving the same tonality; the voice gets annoying and virtually clouding the analogue sequences as side effect. For the rest, the work gnaws tongue and drips blood. Terrific work these duo have had just conceived, an honorable way of paying tribute to the legion of industrialists of the past with a good amount of varnish from the future.

- Jack The Ripper, Heathen Harvest

Old school industrial blended with new school noise with just a hint of catchiness, making for a loud and aggressive album.

From one noise label to another, Pittsburgh’s Prometheus Burning moves from Hive Records to Crunch Pod for the group’s latest release, Plague Called HuMANity. As caustic and as abrasive as ever, the duo of Greg VanEck and Nikki Telladictorian continue down their sonically apocalyptic path, pushing their brand of industrialized rhythmic noise to the limits of the average listener’s ability to bear the aural assault. This writer challenges the listener to find one note, one sequence, one audio texture present on this album that hasn’t been mangled or distorted such that one’s speakers would begin to bleed. And yet, the production is so crisp that no sound goes unnoticed or accidentally buried by cacophony. Not only that, but there are enough catchy hooks to keep these tracks from being a muddled mélange of continuous noise with the arrangements being the only indications of a structure.

Case in point, “Blackmagick Tongue” pummels out a gritty and acidic bass line that with its steady and heavy beat bears some semblance of an old Nitzer Ebb vinyl album melted in a vat of toxic waste. Nikki’s vocals pierce venomous, never once making any inclinations towards actual melodic singing, yet such an attempt would be folly given the volume and crackling distortion exhibited by VanEck’s musical machinations. The same can be said of “Ouroboros Deathride,” which is perfect dance floor fodder with its repetitive bass and drum loops, a mid section synth riff so typical of ’80s dance music, and with the two band members trading off a call-and-response style of vocal interplay that reminds of Front 242 in their heyday. The title track adds a sense of epic depth and foreboding with its passages of orchestral ambience juxtaposed by those grating squelches of distorted synths and vitriolic vocals, while “Deluge” lives up to its title as a prolonged instrumental piece full of seemingly random noises offset by a devastating and huge-sounding ambient progression befitting a sci-fi soundtrack.

As a bonus, Prometheus Burning also tackles a classic with the not-so-hidden track, “You Know What You Are,” a cover of the Ministry hit. VanEck and Telladictorian remain extraordinarily faithful to the original right down to the arrangement of those famous samples from Platoon and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, and that infectious bass line that stomps menacing and monstrous, making it the perfect capper to a grim and brutal album. As one can expect, the only downside to Plague Called HuMANity is its bleakness being so prevalent and the band’s style being so pervasively noisy that one might be more inclined to lower the volume than to crank it. Regardless, Prometheus Burning as ever knows how to deliver the goods in blending the sonic palette of old school industrial with the modern techniques of pure unabashed noise and maintain consistency in setting ablaze to a scene in danger of cooling off.

- Ilker Yücel [3.5/5], Re:Gen Magazine

Pittsburgh’s Prometheus Burning is an act that has managed to encompass a variety of microgenres in their style and each release offers something a little different as they don’t care to repeat themselves. In 2006 Hive Records released the proper debut full-length Beyond Repair and the noise fusion of Greg VanEck’s grinding, future shock Industrial with its nod to a Wax Trax past and Nikki Telladictorian’s melodic sensibilities accentuated by he razor sharp, distorted vocal delivery went beyond the overly simplistic Powernoise we had come to know. The album was quite well received but it was time to kick things up a notch and the duo, now on Crunch Pod, manage to nearly surpass their potential on their latest effort, plague called huMANity.

This is a high concept, vocal-heavy amalgamation of the old and the new. State of the art electronics and sheets of distortion mix with classic sounds from Industrial’s past, calling to mind early Nineties Skinny Puppy and Frontline Assembly along with the clanging beats of Chicago’s heyday. Yet thanks in large part to some clever layering and deft songwriting none of it comes across as a cheap retro gimmick. In fact it sounds quite fresh and uniquely satisfying alongside the myriad Suicide Commando clones weighing Electro down like an anchor tethered to an anvil these days. Not only are ProBurn putting forth impressive performances but their timing couldn’t be more impeccable.

Stylistically, “Ouroboros Deathride” captures the essence of this entire album quite well. With a wink and a nod to Jim Morrison by way of the Oliver Stone biopic VanEck rides the serpent with Telladictorian right behind him. Thumping kick drum is tempered by a familiar snare and the distorted melody plays out with hissed/hushed vocals until the two minute mark when a glitched out synth break provides a memorable moment of dark bliss. It provides an interesting contrast to “Blackmagick Tongue” which is all grinding screech and mid-tempo stomp, Nikki’s distinctive, altered voice taking charge and reaping what it sows.

Occasionally the music suffers from excess, as on the title track which isn’t one of the strongest numbers in the collection. It’s needlessly padded with senseless repetition stretching the song out to a near seven minute length. A nice recovery is made with the bright and effervescent “Realm Of Thee Divine” and the whip smart, percussive fury of “The Weeping And Gnashing Of Teeth.” Yet the last quarter of the collection seems a little too erratic and disjointed. “Genovese Syndrome” is all over the place with atmospheric synth overpowering the percussion in most spots and the monotonous vocal just sort of floating above the fray while an insistent bass riff bookends the piece. The broken beats of “Overture Fusillade” give way to the all-out digital terrorism of “Deluge.” And the album ends with an intriguing free form number that is certainly interesting but doesn’t contain the power exemplified by the rest of the album.

There is heady subject matter involved with a storyline you won’t be able to decipher merely by reading the oblique lyrics. Look for a general synopsis on the band’s website. I’m not convinced it necessarily adds to the overall experience anyway since the stratified soundscapes seem more than enough to digest. Capping the collection off with a fine remake of Ministry’s “You Know What You Are” plague called huMANity will not only be one of the best albums released this year but also one of the most important for its adventurous application of Industrial’s conflicted past fused with it’s uncertain future. It isn’t a perfect release and will probably take at least a few listens to truly sink in but once you “get it” it will become one of those CDs to which you can’t stop listening.

- Christopher Roddy, DarkTwinCities

From the first awed glimpse of Paul McCarroll’s surreal cover art to the initial throbbing anguished moans of “The Box”, this latest album from what are quite possibly one of the most exciting acts in industrial and electro music today leaves the listener with some fairly high expectations. Expectations, I am pleased to report, that are for the most part fulfilled very well.

Musically, “Plague Called HuMANity” carries on where frontwoman Nikki Telladictorian and electronics wizard Greg VanEck last left off with their vinyl-only 2008 release “Retribution” – harsh polyrhythmic percussion and grinding melodic structures overlaid with the unmistakable screeching vocal texture that has become, according to many listeners, the trademark sound of Prometheus Burning. It is therefore likely that if you have experienced this band before, you will be satisfied with the sonic arrays they bring to bear on this album. Their late-80s, early-90s influences are more noticeable on this record than on previous releases: the overall feel of the album, especially from a purely rhythmic point of view, draws startlingly similar parallels to the feelings generated by Skinny Puppy’s “Too Dark Park” album. This is especially noticeable on the slower, groovier “Ourobouros Deathride” – from its call-response vocal structure to the new wave synth stylings in the bridge section. Even their recently-completed tour with Caustic and the Gothsicles was named “It Ain’t Dead Yet”, an obvious nod to the fathers of modern EBM.

Other surprises in store on “Plague Called HuMANity” include a dark, depressing take on Ministry’s old-school floorfiller, “You Know What You Are” and some hauntingly clean vocals on “Elpis (Hope is not enough)”. Enough to send shivers down any spine. While massively complex (and consequently intimidating for many listeners) in terms of content, “Plague Called HuMANity” nevertheless shows great appeal across a range of genres – blending elements of industrial, electro, IDM and breakcore into a cohesive package. An intelligent, hugely creative conceptual album that heralds even greater things to come. My personal favourite aspect of this far-reaching accomplishment is quite simple, because it resonates with my own feelings: the insinuation that all the terrible things that poured into the world upon Pandora’s ill-fated opening of her eponymous box can be summed up, quite succinctly, as a plague called humanity…

– David vander Merwe [9/10], Connexion Bizarre

This is some of the sickest, slickest, noisiest, and catchiest stuff to come out of the power/rhythmic noise scene in a long time. Fans of Prometheus Burning’s Beyond Repair will find crashing beats aplenty; fans of Retribution will find the same attention to detail and vocals. They’ve amped and distorted and modulated and decimated the hell out of almost every note on this album, yet they still have the presence of mind to toss a synth solo in the middle of “Ouroboros Deathride;” the guts to build the end of “Confronting Pandora” around a wailing guitar-synth; and the mastery to close the deal with a glitching, stuttering instrumental (“Deluge”), a soft song with the closest thing to gentleness I’ve ever heard them do (“Elpis (Hope is not Enough”), and a foot-stomping Ministry cover (“You Know What You Are”). An instant classic. Buy it.

5/5
- J. Rayne “chiastic_slide”, Amazon.com