Onur Żłóbnicki’s Tholins of Kharon is a whiplash of sound, with flashes of humor made via modular synths with spaces of respite, little bits of peace before the repetition of guitar lulls you into thinking you’re safe. You’re not safe. You’re never safe. Side one, “Haptodysphoria” is the sound of war, bombardment, of being held captive with noise as weapon. The sound of my head being crushed, or imploding, I can’t tell; channels changing. I am thankful for the little peace given—I’ll take it. There’s a ringing in my ears that won’t disappear, like a non-stop slowed down gong. Drippy. This is chaos that never ends, always mutating. Some of this makes you wonder what you’re listening to. What are those noises? What is that sound? Side two, “Hadalpelogic” is a din of bug sounds, wavering melodies, constant droning, and fading in and out of consciousness. More repetition based, "Hadalpelogic" is therefore easier to grab on to. So take hold, as there is no gravity here, you're on your own. For fans of the unknown and unknowable.