Skin Chamber, a term referred to usually in the field of molecular biology, is also the brain-child — a very, very disturbed child — of two former Controlled Bleeding members who have recorded, in the year 1991, one of the most unsettling, terrifying albums to see the light of day.

As some of the titles suggest, the musical journey throughout Wound is either like swallowing scrap metal, being sucked inside, one's skin being carved, one's mind being ground, or that of a person who dreams in the sewer. Each and every one can pick their own pleasure excursion, their own horror rout by which to thread through the innards of this nightmarish, abominable industrial beast of sorrow and utter disgust.

Mechanical beats keep coldly repeating, the sounds of a cruel factory the size of Earth, where blood, metal scraps, grease, machinery and thick layers of dust dance together the waltz of the damned, the polka of the sheep that readily jump into the mince grinder of life.

Distorted, emotionless vocals hammer the mind with their dictator-like orders and screams, screams of pain and animosity so venomous, the herds of laboring monkeys / slaves in those damned manufacturing lines are crumbling, keeling over, being reduced to ashes by the pestilent breath, by the acid air coming out of the mouths of the screamers.

Searing, buzzing, ruthless guitars slice and hack and puncture every living tissue that's not been yet affected, leaving numbness, mushroom clouds, drops of blood hailing down like black rain of pests — and tragedy eternally prevails.

Skin Chamber debuted an album that is the ultimate in industrialization; it is so bleak, corroded, mechanized and harsh, so hostile and hateful that one would find it hard to believe humans had practically played and recorded it. It represents, more then anything else, the downfall of humanity as the couple of musicians behind Skin Chamber see it and translates the utter dismay into sounds; sound of perversion, hopelessness and final judgment to the talking monkeys.

Wound may have marked the end of an era and a beginning of another; an end of the times of innocence and celebration and the beginning of hardship, strife and global terrorism in a way. This album represents the ultimate dichotomy: both the sum of all human foulness and the solution for that very foulness. This album is the problem and the solution to all those who walk on two and think they are the creators while they are only the destroyers.

Wound is punishment, plain and simple; on the ears, on the body, on the mind. It embodies a greater punishment that lurks for man, sometime, somewhere, some day.