The cool thing about punk is the political act of hijacking so-called classical forms of music, whether operatic, pop ballads, classic rock, and inserting mischievous, comedic, theatrical, and seemingly amateurish jaunts.
There’s an element of self-deception, mixed with an explosion of unbridled energy that is jolting. They could be kidding…but not really. It is this deceptive seriousness that is terrifying when the loopy scrambled electronics turn atonal and Tomata’s staccato vocals become commanding and repetitive. This is the way things really are: uncertain, uncomfortable, and frustrating.