Depicting the decline of a human's cognitive state, Dementia is a febrile, bilious stew that is none too easy to digest. It is both cubistically disjunctive, a constantly mutating sound tapestry whose detail is impossible to fully register, and a vigorously emotional music that induces a physical response.

This effect is cemented by the fact that Zubot resists the temptation to return to problematic musical events and iron out the wrinkles. Moments of confusion, agitation, and paranoia thus blossom from underneath a bed made up of a wide-range of timbres.

At first, these moments appear like irregular clots of blood. "Semantically Lost", for instance, begins as a ramshackle, affectionate, and perceptive improvisation, consisting of gritty bleeps, penetrating sine wave whines and reptilian violin parts that move lethargically beneath. In due time, though, the violin begins twitching spasmodically, emitting crazed, wiry tones, as though it can bear its own weight no longer.

As the snaky violin solos and textural acrobatics keep coming, and in ever-more extreme forms, the occasional glimmer of beauty surfaces - the mandolin and violin blues-folk of "Delusions", for one - providing rest and, paradoxically, heightening the sense of unease. "Dementia" is another such example. Contrary to what its title might lead one to expect, it is in fact quite becoming, with crisscross patterns of harp gently tying bows around the aching drones. The ferocious engagement makes these problematic musical events spread like rust, true, but even so its progression remains always unclear, with certain impediments, ugly and beautiful, consistently disrupting its self-satisfying motion.