The Foundling Wheel - The Foundling Wheel
A one man wail of screeching banshee sonics, San Francisco-born Ted Koterwas’ debut LP fucks and sucks its way into the skull’s decomposing grey matter
Sometimes words are just not enough. Sure, the following congregation of sentences may have lips-a-licking and sweat-beads-a-dripping but no amount of verb spouting can convey the euphoric shudder of The Foundling Wheel. A one man wail of screeching banshee sonics, San Francisco-born Ted Koterwas’ debut LP fucks and sucks its way into the skull’s decomposing grey matter; braiding chromatic sheets of singeing electro-bending between frayed laces of gleaming melody. The discordant Slingshot and It’s A Nice Place’s abrasive cliff-drop feel like the fist-clenched blows of cyborg-punk so fuelled by bile-swilling aggression are they. Yet, despite such machine-gunning spasms, it’s a record embedded with brazen pop sensibilities, wafting glutinous synth bubbles over the gorgeous Not What I Meant and the equally magnificent Mixed Mind And Missteps. But these are mere words - nothing can prepare you for the chaos that lies here. For that, you have to experience The Foundling Wheel for yourself. [Billy Hamilton]