• The Gasman - The Grand Electric Palace Of Variety

    Reviewed by Flux, Mar/April (Flux Mag)

    <b> The Gasman </b> - The Grand Electric Palace Of Variety

    In this case there's no clipboard and no boiler suit, but there is a magic toolbox full of wierd musical atmospheres, unsettling chord changes, horror film organ, in-human vocals and Belgian techno. Chris Reeves' 'The Grand Electric Palace of Variety' is two CDs full of pure fairground spookiness, and not in a contrived way. If you like it a bit twisted, get this but don't listen home alone after midnight.

  • The Gasman - The Grand Electric Palace Of Variety

    Reviewed by LMT (Vanity Project) (Vanity Project 14, Summer 05)

    <b> The Gasman </b> - The Grand Electric Palace Of Variety

    Portsmouth's very own The Gasman (ADA Christopher Reeves...no, really!) is something a bit special. Yes, I do have a auto-reflex bias for acts from my hometown, but even taking that into account this stands head and shoulders above the crowd. Reeves' real talent is in simply being himself. For sure he is influenced by the Warp Records stable. But rather than rehash derivative loops he conjures up soundscapes that come across like Lynch-ian nichtmares. Could this
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  • The Gasman - The Grand Electric Palace Of Variety

    Reviewed by Matthew Ingram (The Wire)

    <b> The Gasman </b> - The Grand Electric Palace Of Variety

    Chris Reeves's latest release for Planet Mu is even in its weaker moments, unfailingly entertaining. The tropes introduced by The Aphex Twin through the 90s, which Reeves is unable to admit inform his work, are failsafe recipes for a solid listening experience - the breathy, helium synth stabs and tickling filigree of drums that characterize The Aphex Twin's billowing rave odysseys are powerfully seductive. Indeed there's nothing wrong with working within someone
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  • The Gasman - The Grand Electric Palace Of Variety

    Reviewed by Jeremy Chick (subba-culcha.com)

    <b> The Gasman </b> - The Grand Electric Palace Of Variety

    The lights in my room are fading. The candles surrounding me flicker to a halt. The sound of something rustling outside breaks the eerie calm and a gush of wind extinguishes any chance of hope breaking through the electric blue calm of the night. These evenings are electric. I feel the presence of something upon the horizon, my door is shut and the darkness of the room begins to play tricks on my eyes. I see shadows darting across the normally still ceiling. The
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