Back before Nine Inch Nails exposed so-called industrial music to the masses, there were fun bands like Australia's SPK. This prototypical industrial music was less music and more like a full-length sound collage. There were no riffs or hooks to be found, replaced by tape loops, sound clips, ambient noises, and rhythm, though generally not produced by a drum kit. Any vocals or traditional instruments were generally distorted beyond recognition, twisted and manipulated into something more punishing and abstract.SPK's second full-length, "Leichenschrei" -- which translates to "corpse screams" -- is suitably punishing and abstract. On the surface, the album is fourteen tracks of noises -- breaking glass, churning machinery, clips of conversations here and there, screams, things snapping and breaking, so on. However, taken in proper context -- namely an otherwise quiet listening environment, perhaps sans lights, and given full concentration -- the album is an extremely frightening and potent aural experience. The album exudes a strong atmosphere, a mix of terror, insanity, introspection, and nihilism, conjuring visuals that are part asylum and part morgue. If you've ever read Mark Z. Danielewski's novel, "House of Leaves," then imagine this album as the soundtrack to wandering the endless black corridors of that house.
So maybe this album can't be construed as music, but it's certainly effective listening. It requires a certain mood, a dark mood glazed with touches of existential angst, sadness, emptiness, fear, and maybe awe. It's unusual and original and soul-blackening. Listen with caution, but definitely listen.
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