As the planets collide in the outer perimeter if our nebulous existence, fragments of alien songs drift weightlessly down to earth and embed themselves into the open head wounds of the most deranged and listless souls. Festering in the unlikely haven of rural Michigan, Black Orphan arrives on our doorstep and languishes a temperament similar to surprise and disgust as the ugliness contained within the four songs heralding the apocalypse gurgles out of the grooves with an unsettling stench. UFO Dictator Records have formalized the divine conception of Black Orphan and with this, their debut 7" EP standing before me, it's ominous and glowing packaging staring me down like the rabid and unearthly canine zombies depicted on the sleeve, it's easily got me in its grip. As yet another head from the hydra that was The Spits reanimates itself into a slithering one-celled organism living on it's own without parasitic dependencies, Black Orphan doesn't necessarily add delight to any party atmosphere, and instead, simmer themselves in a toxic agar destined to stick in your mind, and feast on your bodily fluids. At some points, the heavily-distorted vocals ring clear and intensely and even remind me of the slurred, hushed voice of David Bowie, then quickly devolve back into the abyss of the humming synth patterns before you can put your finger on its origin.
All four songs vibrate with the sickest of intentions and divide your cloudy mind into sub levels of audio hallucinations that fit like a glove if you're keen on similar outfits like Spider and Blank Dogs, so don't be surprised when the drooling denizens of the sub-underground set their sights on it. As with most singles released in this low volume (400 pressed), it's high time you put down your futuristic smoke vaporizers and order yourself a copy before it's vanished, and you're left feeling alone and empty without it in a sea of washed and re-washed music trends that all keep trying to vie for the top of the food chain. Pick up copies direct from UFO Dictator right HERE, or from Goner, Floridas Dying, and Rocket Reducer or pay the price, and try to scrape up a copy of The World's Lousy With Ideas vol. 2 for yet another track of Black Orphan's misanthropic glassy-eyed vision of a bleak future you can't bear to live through.