A hidden post-punk gem, Wipers chug and pulse with rocksolid tension and cool, spiked with hooky little rips and jags and exclamations. Propulsive in labyrinthine patterns, never standing still, never going anywhere, building walls of fuzz higher and higher just to give themselves something to knock over, climaxing in the writhing 10-minute title track.
I'm wildly consistent about the credit I give for getting in first, but I can't get away from appreciating that this was some cuttingedge shit in 1981 - shades of Gang of Four, Television, and all the greats, taken to frantic new extremes 4.5/5
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