Sometimes something is released that is so utterly intoxicating in its ability to captivate and yet it is so utterly ignored that a listener finds themselves incapable of understanding the exact nature of the industry. Be it a trend spun from the straw of bad marketing campaigns ...Sometimes something is released that is so utterly intoxicating in its ability to captivate and yet it is so utterly ignored that a listener finds themselves incapable of understanding the exact nature of the industry. Be it a trend spun from the straw of bad marketing campaigns (or the lack of them), or simply a lack of connection with the consumer, these little gems are treasure destined to be lost and forgotten by all save those lucky enough to find them, much to the chagrin of those wishing for a lot more.
Such is the case with 12 rounds, an unfortunate victim of Nothing Record's veritable lack of remorse when it comes to any of the label's understudy acts, as can be seen with so many of their signed bands. Still, does this truly measure the worth of the performer and the wonders they generate? To say that 12 rounds has a style all their own is an understatement inside and understatement and, in some respects, doesn't go far enough into the realms of the descriptive. These blend with lyrics ranging from the entrancingly bizarre to the utterly sadistic that are hidden behind the mask of Claudia Sarne's extremely intoxicating voice, managing to crisscross through the sometimes beautiful and sometimes brutal while proclaiming a vast array of things that seem almost frightening to hear from such an invigorating spring.
Personally, I like to find myself enamored and shocked at the same time.