There is no way to escape the impression of being cornered in some sort of heinous underworld while listening to Borinosophil. What starts with shortish segments - mildly orchestral, if noise-oriented from the very beginning - soon becomes a veritable onslaught for the auricular membranes under the guise of highly effective frequencies throbbing and stabbing their way right into the skull, escorted by a barely plausible miscellany of what the press release correctly calls “humanimalism”. This means bestial utterances that might or might not derive from pseudo-anthropoid voices subjected to hyper-processing, together with a plethora of semi-organized audio filth. The latter incorporates shards of intercommunication (not exactly sedative, as one tends to envisage spirited conversations between radio operators in military sectors where real danger is lingering), electronic fusillades warped to the point of total irrecognizability, stale-smelling environments and tyrannical riffs to end the whole. Stiff reminders of how ugly human nature can suddenly appear if all we expect from existence is walking on cloud nine. Halfway through complex acousmatic and punk-tinged removal from pleasure, this unmerciful CD is definitely going to cause an impact on the faint-hearted.(Massimo Ricci, Touching Extremes, October 2010)