Wow. The new Swans album (That’s right, NEW SWANS!) plays like some auditory poltergeist, weaving chilling ethereal tapestries through my mind and then suddenly shaking me forth from my ennui with violent, atavistic rhythms. The chants drone deeper and deeper like Bolero on peyote, while soft layers of textures coil up from Kundalini to Sahasrara, and melodic chainsaws rip through the cerebral membrane exposing reality through an opalescent prism. At 2 hours, he has squeezed every minute for anticipatory climax broken by dark lullabies to send regretful preconceptions and bittersweet memories to Kevorkian slumber. Yes, the Swans are back, in every way.