It's a fucking genius proposition, really. Make a whole fucking album that sounds like the best part in Ministry's truly epic "So What." Y'know, the part of the song a couple of verses in, after a particularly cathartic chorus, where the players are exhausted, the amps are overheated, and the component pieces of the song seem to decay inside of your ears into a dense fog of ambient feedback, cut through with the insistent, motorik bassline of Paul Barker and the drum pulse of William Rieflin? That part. Live version from In Case You Didn't Feel Like Showing Up. It's a masterpiece of paranoid repose.
The New York goth-blackened-noise trio Rosenkopf revel in those dread moments of uncertainty and desperation, immersing themselves fully in the mechanized roar of Ministry, Godflesh, and Big Black, and injecting it with a supercharged dose of black metal nihilism and smoky, dub-plate disorientation. Part of the ever-engaging Weird Records family, the trio of Soren Roi, Saira Huff, and Emil Bognar-nasdor may look like a group of pretty/menacing Batcave regulars circa 1983 (which, fair play, is an AWESOME look), but they play with the lockstep aggression of a Steelpole Bathtub or Big Black, while Roi lets loose with coffin-scraping screams and eldritch electronics add that final flourish. A ferocious, pummeling dark-orange sound that, paradoxically, could find a home on an adventurous gothic club's dancefloor, the record collection of a Suicidal Black Metal devotee, or a Noise distro.