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I’ve only attended three concerts at which the physicality of the music wreaked havoc on my physique: Dinosaur Jr., My Bloody Valentine, and Aphex Twin. Where the first two shows simply slew me with volume, Aphex’s jacked-up electronic manipulations were not only loud, but disjointed and spastic. When that cacophony was combined with hyperactive lights, I could barely walk my (chemical-free) body to the exit. I’m sure if I ever witnessed a Panasonic concert I would suffer a similar loss of bodily function, probably in the bowels. The Finnish twosome of Ilpo Vãisãnen and Mika Vainio specializes in low-end rumbles that sound as if they emanate from miked electrical outlets. Rendered with homemade and commercial analog synths, Panasonic’s uneasy-listening music draws distinct images: “Puhdistus” recalls the rhythmic whoosh of cars passing on a rain-soaked road, while “Murto Neste” evokes the wobbly timekeeping of an off-balance washing machine. “Kylmã Massa” is the amplified flapping of an insect’s wings, and “Teurastamo” translates as “slaughterhouse.” “-25” is at least as cold as the temperature, whether Fahrenheit or Celsius, “Sããt›” is AM radio static, and the industrial hum of “Moottori” would surely perform that public cleansing of my colon.