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Cyclobe – Sulphur-Tarot-Garden/The Visitors

Phantom Code

Sulphur – Tarot – Garden

Cyclobe ‎– Sulphur - Tarot - GardenI was lucky to catch the premier of this back in August 2012. The band captured the eerie grace and peculiar atmosphere of Derek Jarman‘s super 8s so completely, I was falling over myself to grab one of these CDr documents they were merch(ing) at the time. A nicely packaged item that have enjoyed listening to ever since. Now in the 20th anniversary of Jarman’s death, Cyclobe have reworked and re-mastered this curious work and put it out for mass consumption. There’s some subtle tinkering, tweaks in the fabric here and there (well to my ears at least),but nothing to distract from the original power.

“Sulphur” is the first to shiver out, and judders like some hypothermic apparition. A

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Cyclobe – Wounded Galaxies Tap At The Window


Wounded Galaxies Tap At The WindowThe vinyl version of Cyclobe’s long-awaited follow up to 2001’s The Visitors sneaked out a few months back as a limited edition pressing, but 2011 sees the welcome wider release of a CD edition. The album has inevitably drawn comparisons with Coil; not only did Stephen Thrower and Ossian Brown themselves both serve time in the group, but guests on Wounded Galaxies Tap at the Window include fellow Coil sidemen Thighpaulsandra and Cliff Stapleton. In the light of Sleazy’s recent passing, it’s certainly tempting to see Cyclobe as picking up the baton to continue the unique sonic quest that Coil initiated, and that Sleazy continued in his Threshold Houseboys Choir project.

The record opens with the lovely “How Acla Disappeared from Earth,” a shimmering and stately overture that invokes a

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Cyclobe – The Visitors

Label: Phantom Code/World Serpent Format: CD

The Visitors - sleeve detailThe title of Cyclobe‘s second album release soon becomes fitting as the music opens out, expands and contracts, almost oozes from the pores in the breathing walls – but where are they visiting from exactly? Some might suggest grayling spacefarers, others could contend, quite successfully, that the source of the sonic visitations lies closer to the realms of the subconscious, and of muti-dimensional minds at that. Perhaps Stephen Thrower and Simon Norris are the visitors, popping ’round to warp some minds and entertain, Puckishly and Pan-like, for the duration of a short step outside time and to rest awhile at their strange hotel of sound.

The Visitors has a soundtrack feel to its ambiance, telling stories of states of mind and places outside the everyday sphere where the memes and archetypes live, rolling in

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