Germlin
Youth Pixxel

OK. Made up genre haters, look away now, if you please. This paragraph is about to have loads. This music is NEW AND EXCITING, and it needs a name. Like maybe - SUPERBEEP SPEEDCORE. Nah. Not good enough. Is this "chip tunes"? No. This is Better. Faster. Harder. Fish AND chip tunes with extra fish and chips. Bipcore. BOOMCORE! WTFcore. Fuck, I think I'm having a panic attack. Go Germlin! GO// GO// GO//FUCKING// GOOOOOO/ OOOOOO/ OOOOOOO!

Allow me to collect myself for a moment. I am flustered. Listening to this album is the exact musical equivalent of being brainraped on fast forward by Super Mario 3 after he's eaten that feather that makes him grow a tail. Too hard to imagine? OK, allow me to try again. It's more fun than a rollercoaster ride that comes with a post-excitement strawberry milkshake then free trainers. It's like inheriting someone else's Attention Deficit Disorder then playing musical Tetris on level 500. It burns. IT BURNS! Like drinking a can of ice cold coke all in one go.

There now follow some sentences that are all mixed up and syncopated. A bit like this album, see? Con-cep-tu-al.

Aphex Twin is a pussy! Don't smile Dickie, your face might crack. 16 tracks in just over 30 minutes. Adaadat means satanic murder in Danish. Germlin is not from New York City - he is from Glasgow. He is called Joe, and likes to wear a hat. His music sounds like the future sounded in 1980, but also like it's from Tokyo in the year 2110. Each song has multiple sped-up hook laden sections squashed together like warm Chewits in your coat pocket. It's a beautiful, disgraceful cartoon mashup the likes of which the world has never seen. With lots of pounding electrospazzgabba headache potential.

THANK YOU, and goodnight.