The digestive activity of Christophe Leusiau is hard to describe.The name chosen for this « project » (the word is so hype) doesn't make any doubt about the author's motives : it's sharp, it penetrates, it seeps and it hurts.

Some people would criticize Sulphuric Saliva for its lak of subtlety, its brutality. A beat and distortion diktat. Sulphuric Saliva doesn't disown his X-chromosome though. Of course it's cropping up when it's least expected, in a narrow but irreducible space, stucked between hammer and anvil : a spark born from the clash of two ferrous objects.

On the contrary, others ... tired of noisy, pointless and lamely hotchpotches records .. will appreciate here the almost religious meticulousness of our drafstman. Everything is thought out, measured out, positionned in order to endow the entirety its fluid cohesion. And when the time comes, the artist swaps his precision instruments to embellish, with pastel shades, paintings drawn with charcoal and Indian ink.

For Sulphuric Saliva is nothing but the expression of our paradoxes, of the ambivalence which runs through every thing, like intimately linked hemispheres of Yin and Yang. When one knows the artist at times draws his inspiration from the organic and baroque universe of Giger, one understands this hermaphroditism is the core of the Sulphuric Saliva experiments. It's disturbing or hypnotic, disgusting or fascinating...

Like a Richard D.James under 220V/50Hz, Sulphuric Saliva upsets questions and insists on the spot that hurts. A consented rape.