Over the last 17 years, The Dead C have produced some of the most strident, uncompromising and downright nasty rock screech to exit from their homeland of New Zealand, without sacrificing an ounce of the grace and finesse required of tamers of gigantic, wild sandworms. Their eighteen full-length albums and numerous seven-inch singles have garnered worldwide respect from vertebrates and invertebrates alike. The Dead Cs improvised noise rock verges on disintegration with a trademark hazy disorientation, invariably evoking hypnotic and heavy moods. But The Dead C are no bummer. They have always sought liberation from shallow and easy rock conventions; amid the murk of cardboard box guitars, underwater vocals, and ramshackle drumming, a new consciousness emerges. The recognizable, sullen strumming, mumbling and lyrical ennui of painter and educator Michael Morley (also known for his solo work as Gate), anchored by percussionist Robbie Yeats and punctuated by the atonal bursts of writer and Corpus Hermeticum label boss Bruce Russell (also known for his solo work as A Handful of Dust), coalesce in a solid front that mocks the efforts of schmaltz-peddling hacks. - Starlight Furniture.