'Rise' has the makings of a great song, slow-building with an hypnotic tick-tock beat and breathy, sexy, half-spoken half-growled lyrics. It doesn't take much introspective prodding to admit that this IS the voice of the stalker from your darker fantasies, and those ARE his words. Twisted daydreams aside – it needs work: as it stands, it's missing that extra bit of... something? Plus it could do with the spit n polish that the 'Outside Contraption Mix' has obviously received.

On its own, 'Outside' is decent (or indecent – whatever gets you off ;-)), remixed it's a cut above anything else being played during the 'industrial' half-hour – or however long it is that the good shit's being allocated in clubs at the moment. The difference between it and other contemporary and comparable cuts?... subtlety. The beats don't come pounding after your head like a coke crazed bouncer with a crow bar who's just seen you wee in his drink. It's thoroughly sinister, eminently danceable, but it always holds something back; avoiding the time-worn trap of exploding into the unnecessary and overzealous display of noize which most bands feel their duty to subject us to - akin to hearing a star-fucking-wannabe-porn-groupie pretending to orgasm under a fat, sweaty roadie, again and again and again. Y'see, it's just that bit cleverer, that bit more real, more gritty, more drrrty: mapping out the trajectory of a sleazy, drink, drug and lust fuelled night partying: from the kick-off “trading in secret, makin a pact”, until a good thing goes too far. And then, when paranoia and desperation kick in and you wonder at all the shit that's gone on, and if this really is IT?: “Call me a taxi...I wana get out alive”...So fitting.

From the Numenesque synth, through to the rasped, sandpaper vocals, promising terrible things, the Outside remix conjures claustrophobically immediate images of desire, tainted with regret and a healthy dose of laconic morbidity. A promising experiment in S&M mood music from Seven Days of Night. They obviously know what direction they're headed in, lets hope in the future they'll kick up the shitstorm we're all waiting for.



Just to end my input for the day - everybody's entitled to their opinions - but I'd like to add a quick, and of course, kindly intended, note on reviewing strategy for 'swiftblackwings':


trying to back up your lack of taste with crass, barely literate jibes is at best petty; and doing so whilst giving the reader no clue about what's going on IN the songs, is a pretty piss poor. You should obviously feel free to scathe at me and my 'miss spooky' merch for using the word pretty. It'll fail to reduce me to a quivering heap of insecurity, as I'm sure it did with the afore mentioned band - even if you attribute unfortunately disabled/terminally ill states to me. I'd be faintly amused to discover whether you've ever, in your flippant, naughty-word-happy idiocy, really considered what a 'cancer patient' might sound like "jerking off"? Cos I'm pretty sure it would sound no different than you. Here's a little suggestion, leave the faux musical elitism at the door and just enjoy the tunes.

really, is this a joke? having come across this on the recommendation of a buddy of mine i decided to check this out. i mean we aint exactly spoilt for choice anymore, the industrial scene has become a huge turgid monotonous bore at the best of times.
after hearing phil bigging this guy up i thought i'd check it out.

i am thinking of asking god for the last 15 minutes of my life back.

this garbage sounds as if it was recorded in a kazakhstani bedroom by retarded chimpanzees in t-shirts reading "little miss spooky" or something.

seriously throwing the word "pretty" into a song doesn't make you trent reznor, it doesn' even make you the ladyboy from HIM. it just makes you look like a dick with an ego and too much time on his hands.
speaking of which, how long did the lyrics actually take to write? from what you can make out (the guy sounds like a cancer patient jerking off) he apparently want's to sedate or berate someone, well he's halfway there, i was bored as hell about halfway through and believe me it doesn't get much more interesting.
the songs- despite the guys bio-just don't seem to be ABOUT anything, you get the feeling he just couldn't be bothered. i mean come on, the music sounds like something off a nintendo beat-em-up from 1988 and not a very good one at that.

more worryingly is the fact that three songs (two and a remix which is marginally better as in vaginal rape is more pleasant than anal) don't make an EP. a CD single possibly but not an EP.

i'm sure mr night is a very nice person and i wish him all the success in the world, he just better come up with something less derivative next time. that or just release a cd full of covers of late nineties NIN, manson and godhead.