Andrew Danso

It’s difficult to understand what Virus are really about. Their first instalment “Carheart” was an art-house auteur, quirky and manic as you like, with the sounds of spoons, crazed yelps and a Toyota Hiace laden everywhere. “The Black Flux” was an insight into doomsday, a reflection that the world was going to hell in a handcart. So, where does “The Agent That Shapes The Desert” sit? It wants to find that middle ground between the manic and depressive, or fleet between the two – and it does this very well.

If you throw enough at a target, you’ll eventually hit the bullseye, and this is exactly what Virus has tried on their third release. It pans off in familiar territory, from quirks to obscurity, mania and humour, dark and light, and it’s not surprising that such a talented bunch can mould all of the said themes, into a coherent avant-garde record. But, because this is the sum of previous parts, The Agent... isn’t near as powerful as The Black Flux, or as broad minded as Carheart, and it’s not meant to be. This is a much more restrained outing, demonstrating that Virus are now comfortable in between their doomsday mania, and it’s nothing short of joyous.

9/10 Powerplay issue #129