In the course of trying to process the rage, confusion and futility hard-wired into every second of ‘Omegaville’, I’m inclined to bypass the album’s ostensible near-future timeframe and instead take a step back into the past, reflecting on the wider possibilities for life that you, I and (presumably) Heads guitarist and Anthroprophh main man Paul Allen have all seen forcibly torn away from us over the past fifteen or twenty years.
Readers old enough to remember for themselves may wish to join me on the journey, thinking back to days of waking up safe and sound in yr little basement flat, walls painted whatever colour you like and the landlord won’t complain so long as you keep the bathroom and kitchen working and don’t bother him too often. Spend the morning tinkering with effects pedals or doing some drawings, have a smoke or two. Mooch down to the library and put in some obscure stock requests, see if you can get hold of those weird German records your drummer’s always going on about. Do a few shifts in your mate’s shop every week to pay the rent, safe in the knowledge you can pop back down to the Job Centre and start filling in forms if things get hairy...
Read the rest of the great review here: Stereo Sanctity