The midnight hordes descend on this latest collection from Genghis Cohn, a mulch of lo-fi guitar-based murmurings and outsider weariness that feels a lot like the product of someone who's been awake to see the sun come up a good few times. The other Genghis Cohn output i've heard was mostly built from abstract noise murk, but In The Flesh is what you might passably classify as 'more song-based'. I understand that's a weird qualification in itself (and the context of WOE), though it's worth being clear there's singing and melody very much discernible here, even if the song structures drift in a first thought/best thought diaristic manner. Surrealist lyrics, deadpan vocals and folk and/or blues-derived guitar figures butt up against short passages of field recordings and tape hiss drone, kinda like Chris Knox demos heard transmitted from six feet under or through a Lovecraftian portal. Which i guess makes this half dead and alien. Right on. Highly perverse and infectious activity, of which we encourage a whole lot more of.