Ecstatic throes of death beckon as the glistening transient scales of a snake detach—the creature insipidly devouring itself while its shell transforms into an oozing mass; slinking into the crevice of an alien gate.
After four years, Oranssi Pazuzu, the purveyors of the secret black slime, return once again to wreak havoc with Muuntautuja [or Shapeshifter], shedding their proverbial skin to reveal an electric yolk only protected by white-glove rooms and temperature sensors. In this enclosure, protected by oscillating “gates” [as stated in “Hautatuuli” or “Grave Wind”], the event horizon twists upon itself with infinite rows of piranha-like blades devouring the onlooker with its vacant gaze. Speeding through space this work recalls a corpse of Geoff Barrow engulfed in black iris smacking its ribs against the hull of a forgotten ship zooming into the unknown.
There are synthetic portmanteaus in the recesses of this record. “Bioalkemisti” [or Bioalchemist] recalls a time when electronic and alternative bands shook gloves on CD compilations, free from the trappings of genre or scene, simply tripping out audiences with their “nightmare rave” music. The title track tears the Giger guts from the cosmic interface as the ghosts of the astronauts careen towards a thorny cybernetic brush. The air trapped in their lungs is the spirit of “Voitelu” — whooshing around sub bass and a reign of sporadic piano notes. This is not your grandfather’s Interstellar, the wet of tears is scraped off your face as darkness grips your eye holes as you succumb to the guttural throat singing signaling your doom.
There are three tracks here that are worth the price of admission alone — acting as anchors and bridges of this masterwork. Ontto, Korjak, Evill, Jun-His and Ikon fire on all cylinders, harnessing obsidian lava and steering the silver-plated rocket across the milky way. The compositions are constructed for multiple builds and returns, aimed to be experienced in a drab club with glowing lasers bouncing off the tellurian chandeliers.
Muuntautuja<7I> feels like a private cult club that operates only every ten years—hosting an exclusive night full of unimaginable horror and rapturous mystery. Eyes wide shut on the Discovery One, with HAL 9000 narrating the event horizon taking place at the Overlook Hotel. They who dare enter the cocoon—stand to experience a grandiose sight, only to risk perishing in its effervescent glow.
