WEB defies classification. He just IS. He is not the direct descendant of any one artist or a creation of hype. We have never seen nor heard the likes of WEB before. He is his own creature, construction and sound. He is all SELF - forged from the elements of purist art: bone, flesh, blood, semen, & mind. WEB is totality personified. Not a singer by classical standards or a vocalist in the avant/dada/PO-MO manner - WEB is a torrent of articulation. Experiments In Time is what he calls his latest baby. Experiments ... is not a mass-produced, factory-born cylindrical P-R-O-D-U-C-T- but the exegesis of chaos. A confessional w/out a confession ... The delicate music churns in the fragile ambience, brooding in contemplation like an ominous cloud formation eyeing up the Gulf Coast. Themes of stagnation, exhaustion and repetition abound. And the more he whispers, the lower his growl, the more acute the violence. WEB opens his portal to a flood of emotion and syntax; the result? Experiments ... is a meditation on disorder. Transcendent of genre, it lives/breathes, feasts/sleeps, breeds/weeps. The album inhales ... and holds the air in chains. To clasp earbuds to your head and drift off into these experiments is an ordeal of vulnerability. Experiments ... denounces masks, allusion/illusion, veiled or affected ignorance for the smooth naked exposures of the soul made flesh. Taut and radiant, these recordings probe the complexities, disturbances and confusion of our lives in Hell. And, throughout, the voice of WEB ---- - buoy, beacon, backbone - compels us to trespass. We are not invitees nor interlopers, just other (equally fucked up) wires patched through a system we cannot contain. We are the subjects of Time's experimental paradigm. And these are our work songs.