http://pitchforkmedia.com/record-reviews/y/yellow-swans/dreamed.shtml

Yellow Swans
Dreamed
[Deleted Art/PACrec; 2005]
Rating: 7.3

There's nothing extreme about Yellow Swans. Extremists are universally
shunned by normal folk; they lurk beyond the outer fringes of society, where
no one with a sweet corn niblet of sense dares tread. Extremists don't push
boundaries, they pretend to ignore them-- then return to defecate on the
masses, spiteful cretins they are. Extremists don't bother releasing
records; they're local basement legends, if anything. Extremists don't have
brethren who are signed to Sub Pop.

Okay, okay-- so Yellow Swans make industrial noise. (I thought I had ya!)
But theirs is sonic stench that's totally worth listening to. Think of
Dreamed as kind of like Norwegian Christmas Pudding: Finding the almond at
its center doesn't promise extra presents from St. Nick, but it will help
you attain inner peace. As with most music of its ilk, the trick is finding
the Eye of the storm. On Dreamed, Yellow Swans make the task seem easy: It's
not the noise, but the rhythm, that dominates. Saddle up and take the
15-minute "Garrison" for a ride. Now double back and imagine the song
without its insistent, pinioning drum machines and ask yourself if without
them you would have made it half as far.

Even sans the chicks and clicks, Dreamed is still gentile compared to the
shock-and-awe of last year's Bring the Neon War Home. By Swans' standards,
Dreamed is like an hour-long Om, so there's some titular propriety. The
album, if not exactly lullaby-like, is impressively fluid. A sturdy spine of
drone withstands the rigors of furious industrial beats, chopped feedback
like metallic dandruff, and, of course, the electro-noise tool of choice,
dot matrix printer squalls. The band even treats us to some rare melody.
Seething with oversaturated guitar swells and whirls of chirruping noise
that can only be described as the sound of all the world's digital
information being sucked through a wormhole, "Drowning in Paradise" is the
most terrestrial thing Yellow Swans have done. It's more Eno than
Whitehouse. Some might call it pleasant.

Still, noiseniks will be noiseniks. Swans are acrimonious little creatures,
and Dreamed doesn't hesitate to chomp a dangling finger or two. Echoey,
indecipherable utterances on "Gold Rush" and "Garrison" add an eerie depth,
suggesting that if there's life within these miasmas, inhabitants aren't
breathing clean air or sending their kids to the Friends Academy. Venus-hot
opener "Untitled", this collection's harshest (and, mercifully, shortest)
track, tears through sound like old terry cloth using all manners of
oscillators and torture devices. Many a soulseeker won't make it through
this first, grisly test of will. Dismiss it on ear-protection grounds if you
must, but, as an entry point into Yellow Swans' scabrous oeuvre, Dreamed is
ideal.

-Sam Ubl, June 3, 2005

thanks for reading.
best,
phil
http://www.iheartnoise.com