Beginning with a stunning a cappella version of Ewan MacColl's folk classic "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face," with the high, elegant beauty of his voice fully intact, Gordon Sharp and Cindytalk create a fascinating, varied record with Wappinschaw. Sharp's trademark fusion of brute aggressiveness and unexpected tenderness remains intact, suggesting something of what Tim Buckley might have done had he been around for punk and industrial music. Officially only two other members make up the core of Cindytalk this time -- drummer Paul Middleton and guitarist/sampler David Ros -- but a variety of other players contribute everything from further guitar and bass to violin and bagpipes. The in-your-face side of Cindytalk is actually more tempered on Wappinschaw, suggesting power held back rather than fully exploding, making for a fascinating tension throughout. "Empty Hand" is a fantastic example -- Sharp here snarls and croons at the same time to great effect, while the slow trudge of the heavy feedback groove sounds like it's echoing up from the depths of a cavern. Songs such as "Traumlose Nachte," with its lead piano and weird, buried echoes, continue this overall mood. When the band does fully fire up, as on tracks like "Return to Pain" and the unnerving loops and crumbling noises of "Disappear," the effect is all the more gripping as a result. "Wheesht" is a definite highlight, with Scottish author Alasdair Grey reading a snippet of his groundbreaking novel Lanark, leading into a brief eruption of heavily produced sonics. The final, untitled track is where Sharp and Cindytalk finally let go completely in an orgiastic explosion of noise interspersed with brief silences. Sharp delivers a breathtaking command to "the spirits of Shiva," summoning up everyone from leftist Scots poet Hugh MacDiarmid to Ulrike Meinhof and Pasolini in a fervor of command, making for an inspiring conclusion. ~ Ned Raggett
Rovi