“At a Foetus show a few years ago, my friends and I became trapped in a conversation with an overeager, drunken fan. This scrawny kid was stumbling around the place by himself, preaching to the choir about the dark genius of Foetus mastermind Jim Thirlwell. He went on about how Thirlwell's piercing, syncopated beats, primitive tape loops and misanthropic persona laid the foundation for industrial m”
