Normally I would try some introductory metaphor, some writerly attempt to prepare you for the finely crafted description to follow, somehow folding the musical concept, intent and execution into an entertaining bit of poetic prose. Yeah, fuck that. _Noizemongers for Goatserpent_ is a fritzed-out dirty coke-n-acid black-noise-punk mainline to a bleeding brain. It's not a music album. It's tuberculosis etched on plastic.

The very idea of the record would be comical if it didn't actually exist and effectively collapse my psyche. The first 29 tracks (yep, the first 29, that's not a typo) are a series of fecal-rippers possibly derived from guitars, synths, drums and voice. I say "possibly" because the shittiest mikes imaginable were used to record a racket loud enough to max out even the most pristine, well endowed studio. Everything's turned up to one-hundred-eleven, and the true spirit of Enbilulugugal revels in the overload. Literally nothing is clear; everything muddles and mingles into a torturous cacophony. This point must be accepted to understand the sheer ludicrous nature of what comes next.

The next 29 tracks are named by simply inverting the track titles (and order) from the first half of the disc. These tracks are considered -- I shit you not -- the remixes. By sourcing "extreme electronic noise", distilling and reassembling it, guess what results? Extreme electronic noise! Saying that these tracks are somehow less rock-oriented than their source material is like saying that carbonated lemon soda is less like wine than flat lemon soda. You don't serve either one at a classy dinner, is what I'm saying.

Disc 2 (oh Jesus-fuck, there's a Disc 2!) collects tracks from demos, comps and splits. I expected this stuff to feel unfocused and incoherent, but it actually hangs together as well as anything on the album proper. Under all that sheet-metal-grinding white noise obliteration, the smothered musical ideas resemble everything from garage punk to doom.

It's easy to argue that any talentless hack can hype a few minutes of ignorant riffing by throwing eight tons of nonsensical waveforms over the top, but that misses the point. Prog hounds seeking highbrow song theory better bark up a different tree. _Noizemongers for Goatserpent_ reminds us of what lovers of drone and noise already knew: extreme sound offers a level of very personal, very accidental aural revelation that might never be achieved in the controlled setting of painstaking recordings and clear production. The album's high score doesn't bespeak its musical achievement; what's great here is that Enbilulugugal get it. Do you?