Aural Aggravation

Dependent Records – 3rd October 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

I’ve always favoured words over numbers – meaning, maths was never my strong point, and my qualifications strongly favour the arts. But it doesn’t take a maths genius to deduce that there are some serious numerical gymnastics taking place when conjuring the equation for this release. That Octagram extends the love of the number 8 which is clear from the band’s name to a concept, whereby the album features 8 songs with a playing-time of 8 minutes is logical, but when they try to spin it that ‘when the 8 just turns by a little in the context of the German electro industrial project’s sixth album, it becomes the symbol for infinity’, I’m lost. How does infinity fit in, and how does it all sit with being their sixth album, something which really screws up the whole thematic.

The tracks aren’t all exactly eight minutes in duration, but in the eight-minute span, ranging from 8:11 to 8:58, so it doesn’t feel as if the limitations / constraints of the project are so rigid as to inhibit the creative freedom necessary to explore and interrogate the themes flexibly.

We’ve already aired single cuts ‘New Eden’ and ‘Oathbreaker’ here at Aural Aggravation, and it’s fair to say they’re representative of this expansive, ambitious effort. It’s electronic industrial, with expansive, ambient trance elements woven in, as well as sampled snippets of dialogue. It’s perhaps worth noting that the vocal samples consist mainly of recitations quoting the last words of persons that were about to receive the death sentence. It’s all there on the sweeping, cinematic, dark electronic dance opener, ‘The Unborn’. In terms of texture and production, it’s absolutely meticulous, but a bit predictable and of a form. Three minutes or so in, the tone and tempo changes, the atmosphere darkens and the beats get harder, and the gritty, distorted vocals finally arrive and while it’s still quintessential technoindustrial / dark electro, the switch makes the song work in terms of structure and dynamics. And this seems to the strength to which FÏX8:SËD8 play to on Octagram, blending the trancey ambient dance elements with the driving hard-edged aspects of the genre.

Skinny Puppy are an obvious touchstone, to which they themselves draw attention, they seem to have assimilated the entirety of the Wax Trax! catalogue, while pulling from all aspects of cybergoth, and even Tubular Bells to forge a hypnotic hybrid of techno, electronica, dance, and industrial, taking a number of cues from Ministry’s Twitch. It’s true that I often return to the same sources: Wax Trax!, KMFDM, Skinny Puppy, 80s Ministry… but I feel I should stress that this isn’t entirely a reflection of my limited sphere of reference, but the two inches of ivory on which so much of the electronic industrial scene carves its tales of angst. The use of samples does feel rather cliché, the way the beats build behind fuzzy synths which ebb and slow, the minor-key one-finger synth riffs… And that’s fine: you know what you’re going to get. But at least with Octagram, FÏX8:SËD8 push that envelope a bit.

If ‘New Eden’ represents the more accessible side of all this, ‘Blisters’ goes in hard. ‘Tyrants’, too, brings a heavy Industrial throb with a dominant percussion, led by a powerful bin-lid smash of a snare sound. With the distorted vocals low in the mix, it’s tense, it’s intense, it’s claustrophobic. Taking its title from one of my favourite phrases from Milton, ‘Darkness Visible’ brings an interlude of cinematic serenity, at least initially, before locking into another dark pulsing groove. The darkness has rarely been more visible.

‘An Unquiet Mind’ makes for a slow-simmering, brooding finale, cinematic, atmospheric, expansive, as synth layers and beats build, rising from a montage of samples to stretch out an almost post-apocalyptic landscape. It feels like the end… and it is.

The best electronic industrial has an intensely inward focus, and makes you feel tense, restricted, somehow, and as much as it draws on obvious influences, with its taut, claustrophobic feel and dense production, Octagram sits – shuffling, twitching, crackling with anxiety – with the best electronic industrial.

AA