CD / Plague Recordings / 2010
From the annals of '80s tape culture Plague Records have uncovered raw 
gold in the form of Pump's semi-mythical 'Sombrero Fallout' album. 
Previously known as MFH on their own YHR label, Pump were Andrew Cox and
 David Elliott, a pair of like-minded electronic music fiends who met at
 Brighton uni in '79. After spilling five cassette albums of underground
 industrial strains inspired by Throbbing Gristle, Cabaret Voltaire, 
Faust and Heldon, they spent the middle of the '80s largely estranged, 
with David writing for the notorious Sounds magazine alongside David 
Tibet, and Andrew working in Cornwall. In '87 they finally recorded new 
material, heard on 'The Decoration of The Duma Continues', before 
colluding for this, their final album which was supposed to emerge on 
Trident Music International, but sadly didn't due to unknown reasons. 
The untimely death of Andrew in 2009 prompted a resurgence of interest, 
and with the utmost respect, we're f*cking blessed that it did as it's 
just the find of the year. Quite interestingly the album was mixed by 
Colin Potter of Nurse With Wound, which goes some way to describing the 
close, dark ambient nature of their sound, but there's many more factors
 at play which make 'Sombrero Fallout' so riveting. 'A Knife, possibly' 
sets a sour atmosphere with chugging slow drum machines and a guitar 
drone industrially dubbed for arcing, widescreen effect, while 'Yukiko' 
features spiraling marimbas diffused into stereo patterns with mournful,
 ghostly synths sounding like Zoviet*France gone strangely new age. At 
the mid way point we enter 'The 'Wife' Container', an incredibly 
claustrophobic and sickly doomscape with over-saturated bass hum and the
 distant sound of groaning guitars tortured in some sadistic dungeon 
ritual for over nine minutes. No sh*t, this is intensely dark stuff! 
Next, 'Apolinaire Enammelled' combines a reverb laden motorik backbeat 
somewhere between Stephen Morris and Klaus Dinger, with twirling 
raga-esque psychedelia, again benefitting from the Colin Potter 
treatment to sound drugged to the nails, followed with the stoically 
centred 'Etoile de mer', a blissfully darkside arrangement of beatless 
ambience. Their swan song 'Falling From Grace' approaches the end with a
 chilling display of unholy, crawling synth tones and spectral axe work 
shielding a lone vocal, delivered with reserve and an arcane sense of 
timing. Fuuuck. This album has really touched a nerve in our office, 
reminding us of our favourite Industrial, darkwave and New Beat, or all 
those other '80s genres whose unholy allure we've always been 
susceptible to, and best of all, it does it without the slightest hint 
of fromage or pastiche. Honestly, this is beyond essential for anyone 
with a darker soul.
http://boomkat.com/cds/322693-pump-sombrero-fallout
