The Digitariat
I Created Over One Million Jobs

By Elizabeth Wells

This rather idiosyncratically packaged album, courtesy of Paul D Knowles, comes complete with photocopied insert of a collage of mundane statements about the routine disaffection of the gainfully employed. Slogans such as 'Nobody likes working but we all have to do it, so stop moaning' may be an ironic statement on the soul-destroying conveyor belt that is 21st century work culture; on the other hand it could just be ham-fisted rhetoric. This in itself doesn't give anything away about the contents inside, though maybe the whole album works as a critique of contemporary information overload and I missed it.

As for what is inside, I can only describe it as some kind of demented robot music in full-accelerated decline. Relentless and hostile in its assault on the senses, I can really find no words to describe the way that it makes me feel, except to say that's it's probably the last thing I would want hell to sound like. At one point speeded-up tape that sounds like an angry infestation of rats is accompanied by what might be a steam engine screeching to a halt. A woman screams and then there is a horrible thumping, crushing abrasive squeal. Terrifying. Later I can almost detect a sampled voice repeating 'shut up' (though I may have made that up through wish-fulfilment), but then I can't hear it anymore because an industrial strength chainsaw begins to mash the speakers. As far as I can tell the whole album is like this, but you'll have to be the judge of that, as I couldn't sit through the whole thing.
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