A more varied follow-up to the seamless
Also Sprach Zarathustra,
Trout's eight selections differ in mood, pulse, and texture. So while "Squid" clicks along to a menacing metronome as bloops and bleeps gurgle their interruptions, "Through a Fly's Ear" drones on metallically, and "Meate Rose" sounds like the lonely mating call of some animal made of wires and vacuum tubes. For the most part fascinating, though the drone side of things rarely gets complex enough to justify the length. "The Sun Softly Melts a Nothing Wheel" ends the CD with a grinding loop that would make the group
Faust proud (or envious, considering
Faust's 1990s comeback). The original CD packaging contains photos of the two feedback decks used to make the album, looking like old analog synths circa 1972. Good listening at both high and low volumes.