imputor? Press Clippings

Diagram of Suburban Chaos :: Status Negatives Review

Willamette Week (Portland)

Suddenly, a brilliant sunset. The clouds of afternoon have torn themselves apart, and an apocalyptic yellow glow suffuses the sky like a radioactive inferno. Walls gleam. The computer screen fuses with the light. And on the speakers: Diagram of Suburban Chaos, streaking the air around the stereo with sigzaggin ebony vectors of electronic drones and stuttering percussive buzzes. The synchronicity of signt and sound is frightening. As the remaining clouds crawl across the sky like bioluminescent centipedes, so the serpenting keyboards slide alongside rhythms that patter like tiny feet creeping across your skin. Then the night closes in. The light winds down in a shiny death spiral, and the vision is gone. But the sound remains. 68 strange, stirring, whirring minutes of it, until its ephemeral synthetic caress finally evaporates, too. And you have to wonder: Was it all a dream? Or did Diagram of Suburban Chaos do that on purpose?

-- John Graham