Bernd Schurer's previous claim to fame is laptopping the hell out of the piano on 2004's Vexations (Domizil), in addition to his small clutch of superb outings for the same label as Teleform; here, attached to the indomitable Ralph Steinbrüchel, one of microsound's most ennabled practitioners, they unite to form a common front that effectively unseats many a ruler from his drone throne. According to the artists, "is methodically based upon a technique invented by the surrealists entitled "exquisite corpse", a method by which a collection of words, images or sounds are assembled collectively in sequence, either by following a rule or by delivering and making visible the "ending" of what has been created previously. This procedure has a resemblance to an old parlor game entitled "Consequences" in which the players write alternately on a sheet of paper, fold it to conceal part of what they wrote and pass it on for further contribution." Schurer and Steinbrüchel originally presented this work as a sound installation in Zurich, although apparently this particular CD version offers the resulting music in a "slightly more composed" form; regardless, the entire exquisite corpse ideal has been rendered in full, something that, in this age of file sharing between musicians, isn't a particularly brash or bold concept.

No matter — in the hands of two such skilled manipulators, the yield far out-trumps the concept. Although is indexed into 8 "tracks", the entirety of the recording plays as one long suite, ostensibly to recreate the physical tactility of its installation origins; nonetheless, the palette of sounds on display are themselves potent enough to be thoroughly digested whether you bore witness to their "live" exhibit or not. Schurer and Steinbrüchel's working methods appear relatively similar in design, to the extent that one can not discern who in fact brings what to the microsonic table, but such considerations would make for laborious analysis that only rob the recording of its innate mystery. Suffice to say that the two make much mischief across the stereo field: a catalog of hisses ascends/descends like radioactive steam, the exhalation of their vents opening realized with throbbing gristle and mechanized belches of hum and buzz. Tones are pitch stretched often to the breaking point, then allowed to snap back violently; the warm electricity emitted by the duo's hard-drives is allowed to loop and become swallowed in a deeper ocean of clicky plankton and crescendos of man-made feedback. At times the omnipresent hums and attendant silences make for queasy moments flowing out of the speakers; later on, Schurer and Steinbrüchel erect mildly toxic atmospheres that pulsate with omniscient presence. Color it any way you like; the procession of mini-events occurring never fails to narcotize the senses.