Igor Krutogulov & Thunderwheel are not living our times: maybe theyre lost beneath the waves of the previous century, among dissonant guitar patchworks, ragtime toy-piano from a closet beyond a creepy mansion, harshy melodies sung by his vitriol throat. There's a concept within these songs, where the nature prevails the gathering of human forces, and if you listen carefully you can figure a sort of impossible jam between Screamin' Jay Hawkins and Old Time Relijun lost in an African forest, or just a spectral Tom Waits's secret brother gone definitely mad and under the influence of Wolf Eyes noise manipulation. Weird music for weird people.