Low Jack's unpredictable Editions Gravats twist out gruff, grooving extracts, or Extraits, of textural and rhythmic sound art from Jean-François Plomb's JiFlure installation, making up the French artist/plastician's idiosyncratic debut release. These are tightly coiled yet wickedly chaotic creations, gleaned from a jerry-rigged set-up of three compressed cardboard suitcases containing four mechanical sanzas (mbiras aka "thumb pianos") built from circular saw blades and brochette spikes (metal skewers), all powered and excited by windscreen wiper motors and an array of homemade vibrators, mechanical drums, metronome and harmonica. The workshopped results are inarguably congruous with what you'll find out of Düsseldorf's Diskant label and bears a striking resemblance with the ferric tang of Konono No.1's thumb piano techno, yet they hail from a rather different artistic process altogether, which possibly shares more in common with Jeff Keen's self-built sound blatz or Pierre Bastien's mechanical instrument compositions. However, they all share a ruggedly rhythmic charge between them, one that relishes in the grit and infidelity of hypnotically repetitive, moiré-like pattern, and the friction of gear-grinding texture: something universally understood by DJs and dancers looking for ruder, unique styles to move mind and body. Also comparable to: Don't DJ, Black Zone Myth Chant and Mica Levi. Includes art insert. Edition of 350.