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Plugs right into the mind's eye, this one, with images of rusting iron men ripping off their own arms and trashing the laboratory for kicks, jamming their fingers into the mains and rushing on the energy-overload feedback-bliss. Neptune have conjured a beautiful, exhilarating mess of clanging metallic doom, jagged drum embolisms and queasy electronic white-outs. From these primitive ingredients they create swooping bouts of 'roller-coaster-stomach'; a melancholy ride on a scrap-yard carousel; a disintegrating clunk-rock death scene; and - on the final 16 minute buzz-drone feedback-scream masterpiece - absolutely the most perfect downpour of eyes-rolling-into-the-back-of-your-head, bleeding overtone, trance-shriek to have been recorded for a very long time. If you've ever wished Wolf Eyes would just get over it and give us all a break, and Black Dice just got too much peach fuzz on their chins, it could be time to move to Neptune.

Plan B, January 2007

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