Pardon my ignorance if you will, but elaborate opera houses aside Sydney oft appears to be left a little wanting in all stakes sonic. Needless to say more than happy to have the hypothesis ruthlessly disproved (
flood the inbox if you so fancy) although I'm already envisaging few doing so more emphatically than the
Secret Birds just did: hung up somewhere between
Carnivals,
Kagoule and something altogether more Aboriginal as though ravenous bird of prey spazzing out on telephone cabling, Zen Pyramid is a resplendent wig out which sounds something along the revelatory lines of this here globe's purported 7-day creation crammed into thirteen casually sublime minutes. And with statements such as this: 'If you believe music is a disposable commodity and no longer contains the sheer power that has caused humans to create physical/totemical manifestations from ideas and inspirations for thousands of years, you can also
download it and listen to it while you tweet' I'm already savouring D. Black's drone-fuelled zoning out more than I ever could a fourex.