Sweet expansivo-spatial ?hinterland of the song form? brush-ups here from two cool bunches of highly sexed up weirdos brought to you by Brighton?s Curor label, them what?s also put out slabs by the Jazzfingers, Owl Xounds, Kylie Minoise, Family Battlesnake, etc. Recorded on a satisfyingly compressed and downright un-slicko set up, the recordings from both clans congeal and spurt and grind and drone with some heart-warmingly tender passages juxtaposed with a good deal of wet-lip delay-mulched perversion, plus backward shit thrown in as well, which always sounds sweet no-matter what you put through it. Actually some of this reminds me a little of some of the more languid Sunburned jams, but only some of it. Head straight for the last track if you want stretched bowed strings sliding off into the musky headlights of loved-up dusk ? but even here, on what?s perhaps the most normal sounding UK drone-style piece on the whole disc (if only for the first 4 minutes), there?s elements that smear it above the usual fare of slap-your-butt and call me happy insta-ecstatic drone ? the tapes, static, wind and vocals that sound like they?re coming from a different room entirely give it a whole concentric lick of wasted improv zeal. It?s tiny, humble and attractive, and it moves with a disorientation that?s exacerbated by the quietly desperate vocal ribbons pulsing about somewhere behind you?
Back to the beginning, and mosquito-spit ash flakes flare up while a whole body of clamouring woodwind tries to escape up the chimney. First two tracks by Chora, the rest On Fire. Chora put up a more monolithic cosmic headspin with the longer, denser material, full of sharp attack and bird-baiting and the sheer joy of glockenspiels twisted round the alien landscape. ?Another heel clicker? takes a more sanguine route at first, preferring to lay on undercurrents of spherical wows in perhaps more linear fashion, until the expansion naturally arrives with big mouth action and more colourfully harmonic turbine tape resonance. Chora prove accomplished, but it?s On fire that really do it for me here, particularly with the sheer transgressive weirdness and lovely melodic freaksome moments of the penultimate track on the disc ? the changes of pace and undulations of vocal and instrumental action give it by turns an addictive despondency and a weird cultic charm. The split as a whole is a great find, and each side hugs the other with flailing sultry arms of noise-joy. Edition of 50, snap it up. 7/10 -- Evan Rhodes (19 September, 2007)