Jann arrives on Pinkman with a soundtrack of breathless panic, an ode to a blighted world of diesel fumes and indifference. Rhythms are grizzly, gored and torn. Thick chords judder, revving like a clapped-out engine as metal slashes at savaged snares. Acid scorn is poured on this inhospitable world, amplified by the haze of distortion that clouds Jann’s hard and cold vision.
The Hipodrome Of Music 