The Fool In Reverse / Red
Pain Management presents a debut collaborative release from Bristol’s Larry McCarthy & mysterious newcomer Eris FM. The limited edition single fuses hellish Bristolian dub with tender vocal excursions on two dark cuts in equal parts tough and tender. A heartfelt comedown offering for the hyperactive via two cathartic weapons primed for maximum emotional release.
The A side’s foolish titular opener is a hellish mess of dub delays and eerie narrative exposition. Reminiscent of blown-out early No Corner offerings; a tangled mess of sirens and harsh noise ensnare FM’s disembodied commands. Turn your phone off / Tell no one where you are / Go out / Press your lips to the cracks in the soil. Overtly human exposition shrouded in a plosive shell of sawtoothed frequencies and machine drum paranoia. The effect is an unsettling hybrid of softness and uncertainty. A teeth-grinding mess of grit and potent anxiety primed for anti-dancefloor devastation; one to comfort the disturbed or disturb the comfortable depending on where you’re at.
On the flip ‘Red’ applies this same methodology to a beatless format, noisy chaos swapped out for ascendent grandeur. Here FM’s voice has more room to breathe, floating above an ever expanding synthscape. Reflective prosaic cohesion replaces the A side’s splintered present-tense directives.The rawness remains but on Red it takes the form of a commanding emotive clarity rather than claustrophobic uncertainty. A subtle heartbeat rhythm pulses beneath the nebulous pads, swaying like a slow dance in the early hours.
Hyper-limited run of 100 7” records
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Shipping & Returns
Shipping & Returns
Description
Pain Management presents a debut collaborative release from Bristol’s Larry McCarthy & mysterious newcomer Eris FM. The limited edition single fuses hellish Bristolian dub with tender vocal excursions on two dark cuts in equal parts tough and tender. A heartfelt comedown offering for the hyperactive via two cathartic weapons primed for maximum emotional release.
The A side’s foolish titular opener is a hellish mess of dub delays and eerie narrative exposition. Reminiscent of blown-out early No Corner offerings; a tangled mess of sirens and harsh noise ensnare FM’s disembodied commands. Turn your phone off / Tell no one where you are / Go out / Press your lips to the cracks in the soil. Overtly human exposition shrouded in a plosive shell of sawtoothed frequencies and machine drum paranoia. The effect is an unsettling hybrid of softness and uncertainty. A teeth-grinding mess of grit and potent anxiety primed for anti-dancefloor devastation; one to comfort the disturbed or disturb the comfortable depending on where you’re at.
On the flip ‘Red’ applies this same methodology to a beatless format, noisy chaos swapped out for ascendent grandeur. Here FM’s voice has more room to breathe, floating above an ever expanding synthscape. Reflective prosaic cohesion replaces the A side’s splintered present-tense directives.The rawness remains but on Red it takes the form of a commanding emotive clarity rather than claustrophobic uncertainty. A subtle heartbeat rhythm pulses beneath the nebulous pads, swaying like a slow dance in the early hours.
Hyper-limited run of 100 7” records
