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“…ritual exploration locked in a landscape of left-handed black urbanity…. the sound of jackals seeking prey in abandoned malls. Locrian’s vision is an internalised one, a view that’s expressed through ferocious volume with a finger than remains on the trigger guard.” (Scott McKeating, Rock-a-rolla)
“Looming monoliths of distorted synthesizer erode in slow motion while a brittle, hazy guitar line wavers slowly back and forth like a rusty weathervane creaking in the wind. And then: the voices. Disembodied howls rising from the devil’s asshole.” (J. Niimi, Chicago Reader)
“Like a raven perched on an electrical transformer, Locrian summon elemental human dread, the type hinted at in medieval passion plays and Shakespearean dramatic interludes, but do so electrically, without the pretense of ancient wisdom or nostalgia-laden “spectral folk.” (Chris Sienko, Gapers Block)
” spoon through the night mounted upon a guitar or a synth… the sonic textures are closer to rock (maybe born amidst the debris of a party Killing Joke had just left).” (Byron Coley, The Wire)