PRESS AND REVIEWS

DisinVectant - DisinVectant CD

"...loving the music, the regional accent of the Egg Plant works really well, makes it different. It's very dark, sounds like a city eating itself in slow motion while a thousand trains go rusty at double speed."   Vincent Drummond, Virgin Records.

"A curious beast...a dark CD indeed and oh so tres experimental. Coil sprang to mind on the first track...chocca with samples and electronics, this is a dark dark beastie...but eminently listenable."     Fat Barry, Norman Records

"This British album merges the sound of the eighties with the trends of the new millenium. And between them still, Beethoven transmits through a cascade of noise... YinTov and The Egg plant are the somewhat self-willed names of the two members of the band DisinVectant from Birmingham. In good old eighties tradition they use the industrial background of their hometown and appropriate everything from noise and rhythm up to aggression and lyrics. The two musicians are by no means newcomers to the business. For over ten years they have playd in most diverse areas, but only the establishment of a club named 'club DiaboliquE' led to the emergence of DisinVectant. Asked after influences the two state a wild conglomerate of styles and interest areas. In order to name only some: Anton LaVey, the Kabbalah, Negativland, Tool, electricity, Muddy Waters, Throbbing Gristle and the urban life. The line becomes clear thereby: DisinVectant begin where industrial and EBM stopped years ago. They shrink from themselves in addition, not at more modern influences, then breakbeats and sampling in their music are treated in exactly the same way as Beethoven, ending in a cacophonous 'Fur Elise'. Some numbers remind others of Coil, of the brutal beats of Scorn or The Bug. All in al the two gentlemen submit an extremely interesting album, which falls stylistically into several categories. Exactly this makes it interesting and exactly this will make it difficult for DisinVectant to find their public. But who is open for a wild style-mix, this longplayer is urgently put to their hearts and ears." Evalutaiion: **** Walter Robotka, evolver - original (German) version at www.evolver.at/?story=1746

"...it's a bit like watching telly on K. David Lynch. They had Eraserhead on in the lounge the other day. I don't like listening to it. It's the bad part of films that make me look away. That's the problems with reviews. You have to listen. Unnerving. I have to listen to the sound on films now. Blaque Meat - Feeling uncomfortable. the drums and bass roll over themselves like a rolling monolith or the tracks of a JCB over themselves through a woodland overgrowth, with bits falling off now and again and rolling off by themselves. And those damned pips scratch my eardrums. The words taunt me as this happens. Like it's my fault. The trees get hacked away, and I do nothing. Dance of the Tigerlilies - Now I'm in a tank. Hunting gooks. The greasy little f*ckers. A tank's not even the tool for the job. The war's been over for years. I've been dug up. Maybe this is a different war. Hey. Maybe it was one of those old WW1 tanks, the big flat ones, before, not a  JCB. IN-OUT-SIDE. Someone on a sweaty veranda sips gin and tonic. It ain't half hot mum. 3 Minute Warts Remover - Partially dematerialised. Stuck in the transporter beam. That damned holding music. Just hang on, we'll pull you out. We're having trouble separating you from the goo you fell in. Throw me a rope you bastards. No not a f*cking tractor beam. You assholes. Nope that's it. F*ck. Oh no, here's the telly. Too much. Did too much that time. Move about. F*ck off. This is my hole. Gonna do some more...hahaha. Ha. DON'T PUT ME ON HOLD. End Trails of the Dead - Political march. Soundsystems. What the f*ck? Vote who? When did this happen? Haha, a car's on fire. I wish they hadn't. Mechloop 1.1 - Industrial Britain. Where did you get this? A rarity. Back of a primary school? They all got PCs now. No space for looms. No danger these days. The machine glows. No metal now, no danger any more. Vacantly staring at the screen. Looking at the letters on a keyboard. Click click click. You can't take that thing in the swimming pool. It'll rust. Desire Through Stained Glass - At the time. Acuwrist? Cokwho? Stopping...ever sit too close to the fire? Who are these people? Easing off. They're moving again now. I don't know them. Are these my new friends? I've changed my mind. I want to go back. I miss them. I'm not giving them up for these weirdos. What are they doing? Small Tickle Scissors - Escaping. The finale. Round in a stone circle. Sunday. Don't those bongo players ever give up? Work tomorrow. Didn't pull. Never mind. Girlfriend's over there. And what. The year of my birth. Blocking. Didn't feel for her once. Now I do. A truly uncomfortable and painful experience. "   Jon Primate, Chaotic City

"Regional accent, bullsh*t! It's not about the accent, it's about making words sound different with an emphasis bringing up a new and special meaning..." Maxx, Xanurtsian Nights (Resonance FM)

"DisinVectant are Yin and The Egg plant. Their sound is the sound of alienation. Or, at least, outsiderdom. It's dark and machinistic and it reeks of fear and disaffection and frustration. Of dirt. Of grime. Of rot and decay. Of things that need DisinVecting. The pick of the septet is the opener Blaque Meat, a slow and hefty two-stepper cast in iron and scorched by jets of superheated bass. Black like a powercut, through circumstance not calculation, The Egg plant recites in deep Brummie whilke distant engineers scorch and solder." Jimy Possession, Robots + Electronic Brains

Frank Cougar/Sons of Samuel Volcano

"...combine old fashioned songs interwoven with dazzling wit and irony all packaged in a one man crooning/red wine drinking side show...think Bill Hicks, think working mens' clubs, think Frank Sinatra on class A's with Black Dice as his house band."   Capsule, on the Supersonic Festival appearance

"...inhabitant of a surreal and enigmatic world between music and the spoken word, cabaret and a half-remembered Raymond Chandler novel, darkness and the void."   Sonic Arts Network, on the Agents of Impurity appearance

"It's almost like William Burroughs or some weird fecked up beat poetry over knacked lofi electronics/acoustics. I think there's some hints of a more avantgarde early Babybird in there too if he'd been brought up on a diet of Hellraiser and shiny sick things. Me like!" Fat Barry, Norman Records