Raut Raut cassette

“Egg” is hard to wash off, apparently. A meme turned flesh like Videodrome, thrown into the goofy blender that was essentially codified and perfected by its originators, yet still somehow refuses to be fully assimilated into a more generalized sound. I only spend so much time on the term because this Polish duo uses it in part to describe themselves, throwing the word “dark” in there for good measure although I can’t piece together why. These songs are stripped down to the point of monotony, which could strike a nerve in an interesting way (let’s never forget Mark E. Smith’s credo of “repetition, repetition, repetition”) if the music weren’t so sexless. This is ABABAB-structured coldwave that all sounds like it was recorded DI so that nothing really has depth or character. The vocals have a garbled telephone effect, like a rogue AI wants you to wire crypto or your loved ones will “get it.” If that all sounds appealing, and I’m sure it does to some, go all in. For me, the music just holds me at arm’s length, never letting me regard it as more than a curiosity. Let’s face it, no one likes eggs when they’re cold or old. Can we move on now?