Dumb Flesh is Wagnerian blitzkrieg pop—a flaming meteor, an apocalyptic aftershock, a towering wall of sound. But where Fuck Buttons are steeped in the raw distortion of punk rock, Dumb Flesh is processed, electronic, smoothly stylised. This is bracingly noisy music, but that noise has been sculpted to excite rather than disturb. Plus, these ludicrously huge tunes are threaded with sweet, quirky synth melodies (part '80s electro-pop, part classic Detroit techno), which gives Dumb Flesh a vulnerable, human dimension.
The opening one-two of "Loam" (a bizarre sludge of backwards vocals) and "Dead Format" (a storm of thundering drums and gusting noise) is utterly thrilling. That initial shock and awe is never quite repeated, but "Cruel Sport" and "Life Science," whose abrasiveness evolves into a moment of lush beauty, come close. There is also plenty to enjoy in the more familiar Suicide-esque "No Lite" or "Double Cross," which is reminiscent of Vitalic's grand electro. Indeed, for a record inspired by the frailty of the human body, Dumb Flesh carries itself with an engaging, confident swagger. It's slightly ludicrous, highly theatrical and great fun.