Bruit Direct Disques continues down the path of no-fucks-given w/yet another ace from a deck already heaped with bewildering maa. In much the same way as Pasolini’s Theoreme (the film) once fizzled the corneas of the prim, Theoreme (the artist) is here to singe ears on this blistering solo debut. Laying down all the instrumentation ‘n vocals herself, Theoreme posits that spectres of the past continue to resonate in the contemporaneous milieu of the underground. This isn’t some Erik Von Daniken/Chariots Of The Gods bullshit. It’s the #>$&%^*ing truth! Deep inside the angular ingenuity of this chef d’oeuvre are subtle sonic vectors, analogous to Gutura, SIC & the corrosive side of Zickzack. Channeled or not, the adage remains, “Great minds think alike”. I can’t say for sure the French invented propositional logic, but they sure do guzzle it down. And Theoreme’s right there; two-fisted, bellied up & ready for bear. You want a cold war? Well son, here it is. Have at it.