"Stheno" doesn't so much kick things off as warn us of the potential terrors to come. It's all seething malice and tensely reverberating metal, broken once or twice by a snarling synth stab that injects itself through your skull by way of a rusty syringe. Think severely stripped-down Prodigy, if Liam had despised everything in the outside world and was making tunes to stop people coming within 50 feet of his studio. "Perseus" contains the kind of kick/bass that should come with a health warning, the overwhelming quality of which is offset but never diminished by a hammer-like snare and shrieking pads. "Hyginus" is more melodic, but equally as unsettling, an arpeggiated lead weaving its way disquietingly around the pulsing bass.
On Part II, another apocalyptic kick/bass combo greets us in "Tethys," not so much shaking you warmly by the hand but instead fracturing your fist in a vice-like grip. This combined with the metallic clattering of its lead would have all but the most staunch dance floor warriors retreating—weeping—to the far corners of the club. Thing are equally as intimidating with "Scylla," a techno interpretation of the Psycho shower scene complete with whirring, whipping blades and terrified screaming. "Ceto," by comparison, is positively relaxing, bounding bass and mild distortion giving a relaxing aural massage to those few who made it all the way to the bitter (and satisfying) end.