The first thing to note (as should be obvious from the title) is that the music which comprises this extensive set is not stand-alone material but rather a series of soundtracks that were originally used in performances of the Belgian theatre/performance art group Abattoir Ferme. As such, the mood of the pieces emphasizes even more the accompaniment like function of the music than Kreng’s previous two records. How far your imagination stretches to picture what dark ritual or Lynchian drama Kreng is accompanying will probably be the deciding factor in whether or not you feel this mass of material is worth the asking price.

The first disk titled Tourniquet is probably the most straight forward and familiar of the four main LPs on offer. The first side is a dense drone piece that will immediately bring to mind the work of Angelo Badalamenti, but in fact of recent Lynchian soundtracks it bares most resemblance to Lynch’s own work on the little distributed Polish Night Music set which accompanied Inland Empire. Layers of reverb and digitally extended strings floating above synthetic noise, and barely discernible transitions in chord and timbre characterize this piece’s near 24 minute length, in addition to the now clichéd nods to Caretaker style hauntological production flourishes. The second side will be very familiar to fans of Kreng’s debut CD L’Autopsie Phenomenale De Dieu being an amalgam and extension of several of the themes used on that disk. More tense suspended strings and muffled drums evoking Cabalist mystery and dark foreboding. The somewhat antique nature of Kreng’s sample sources are no doubt part of his charm and the way he layers smudged orchestral sound with obscure ecclesiastical themed dialogue is both compelling and at times unnerving. To be honest though the latter dialogue sounds more contemporary American evangelical than Holy Roman Empire, but I’ll leave that to the specialists.

The Mythobarbital disks continue the format of building tension around an arrangement of orchestral loops and refrains. This time the instruments are less smeared and the clatter of minor chords is able to duel more readily with dissonant string glissandi and slow thumping bass drums. It is no doubt an engrossing style that cannot but create an atmosphere of dread, but truth be told musically it soon becomes a familiar trick, and without the visuals of the theatre production to add context the repeated sequence of drone, tense orchestral build up and eventual release tends to result in a loss of interest. Things don’t improve much in this regard on Mythobarbital’s second side which again drags out many of the elements already showcased in more concise form on Kreng’s previous releases for Miasmah.

Of the four main LPs it’s Snuff which radicalises Kreng’s style to the greatest degree. Perhaps this is because it shows the greatest degree of intervention on the producer’s side. The orchestral samples don’t just linger in suspension or overwhelm the spectrum, creeping like an alien blob in a 50s B movie, but rather slice and interrupt the undulation of drone and looped motifs. By the halfway point Kreng signals the funeral oration of this stilted style with a subtle use of micro-tonal rhythms off-set by Baroque chamber strings, unpretentiously fading out to silence.

The highlight of the disk titled Monkey comes at the end of side 2 where the Lynchian fug gives way to a crunchy tech/noise outro the like of which Ancient Methods would be proud of. Aside from this unexpected change in form the disk stretches the previous three LPs style to its very limits. Piano chords are reversed and agonisingly drawn out amid cavernously sparse drums drawn as if from the depth of some ancient mine. There are hints of martial industrial calling forth demons from the deep places of the world, and of course that ever present creeping tension which is never quite fully released.

In addition to the four main LPs there is also a 10” disk titled Monster which comes with the tag line “can you immagine being TOUCHED ALL hte time?” Odd spelling is intentional. It comes housed in a wonderfully over the top sleeve parodying B movie exploitation horror flicks featuring X-ray pictures, inauspiciously placed hairy male hands, and track titles like Hitler Needs Women! Musically it’s a departure from Kreng’s usual style and instead takes up the mantle of recent Andrew Liles and Ensemble Economique releases; not to mention the whole aesthetic of the Modern Love offshoot Pre Cert entertainment. The faster paced cut and splice approach is certainly welcome after the other LPs, but given this style is currently being done to death I can’t help but wish that Kreng had opted to take a risk with a more original take. Saying that, it’s still a fine soundtrack to what would clearly be a very silly film. Whether or not the aquatic harpsichord of Miss Linda Forfait really makes an appearance I am unable to say, but I’m fairly sure that one track features the drum roll from Thunderbirds, or is it the man from U.N.C.L.E?

In all it’s a huge amount of material showcasing the finest that this genre has to offer. It’s also perhaps a signal that the style has reached the end of the road in terms of what it can deliver in surprises and sustained interest. There are literally dozens and dozens of artists producing this form of material at the moment; this set might well serve as an appropriate moment to start a new chapter.