The second full-length from Haley Fohr is a stunning and utterly singular record, glued together (or thoroughly unglued) with bent electronics, delayed vocals, drifting percussion, piano, and acoustic guitar, under the guise of low fidelity but clearly working to pry the generation gap apart even further, at least to the extent of people expecting songs vs. those who don't care, so long as the emotions presented are truthful and heartfelt.

Here's the second full-length from Haley Fohr, a woman in her late teens/early 20s from Lafayette, Indiana d/b/a Circuit Des Yeux. It's a stunning and utterly singular record, glued together (or thoroughly unglued) with bent electronics, delayed vocals, drifting percussion, piano, and acoustic guitar, under the guise of low fidelity but clearly working to pry the generation gap apart even further, at least to the extent of people expecting songs vs. those who don't care, so long as the emotions presented are truthful and heartfelt. It's a confusing, soul-baring stare-down against repression and isolationist activities, the proverbial knife in the hand with the following action yet to be determined.

Shocking in both its presentation and delivery, hers is an otherworldly tumble through fallen-angelic vocalese, obscured beyond comprehension, across murky, decaying soundscapes in which ideas grow wild and of their own accord, and die on the vine. There seems to be no limit to her imagination, or to her abilities to convey wholly original sonic ideas that drift in and out of conventional understandings of what music is supposed to do. Comparisons could be bridged to Grouper, Inca Ore, early Magik Markers, Danielle Dax or certain Pink Reason recordings, but even those could be considered a stretch. Sirenum will dazzle some listeners and infuriate many more, but in no way is it possible to feel nothing once it crosses your ears. Most of all, it's a challenge, and that's something that very few of her contemporaries in lo-fi and underground music are able to engage. You'll remember this one long after the year has passed.

-Doug Mosurock (August 6, 2009)