You could spend half an hour listening to Akasha? or you could just randomly twirl your radio tuner and get the same effect much quicker. Quebecois noisers Slaughter Slashing seem to conflate randomness with originality over eight songs that sacrifice niceties like coherence or listener enjoyment in pursuit of their every-genre-at-once intentions. I can't imagine Slaughter Slashing's target audience, but I'm pretty sure either the band or their fans will be on some heavy-grade prescription mood medication.
There are flashes of traditional metal bordering on grind lurking underneath Slaughter Slashing's Mr. Bungle-oid, everything-but-the-synthesized-kitchen-sink self indulgence. However, knowing my audience, that won't be nearly enough to hold your attention once the intrusive horns and other stylistic detritus start getting heaped on top. Rather than being content at being really good at one thing, Slaughter Slashing instead dabble halfheartedly in half a dozen. There are flashes that they know what they're about, such as the thundering, moody horn opening of "Bastian's Challenge," but 48 seconds into a 3:22 song it becomes a bloated, sagging mass of competing styles as blastbeats and bad jazz war for supremacy. The cool Creation is Crucifixion guitars of "Tommy Goes to Memphis (The Chronicles Part 1)," Akasha?'s first true song, get buried mercilessly under more flatulent horns.
And that's, ultimately, Akasha?'s undoing because as soon as you find one element you can latch on to, it gets obliterated by funk bass, twitchy electronics or horn lines stolen from Kenny G's yard sale. It's one novelty piled on top of another. Nothing gets integrated. Nothing coheres. And every time I listened to the album, it just became worse and more distracting. Akasha may be Sanskrit for aether, but I think Slaughter Slashing are just blowing smoke.
[Full disclosure: Slaughter Slashing sent me a review copy.]