To Kill a Petty Bourgeoisie has that sort of . . . electronic, chiptune-sounding post-rock style one might find in the suddenly popular band Fuck Buttons. All sorts of samples and noises working together to create layered blankets of soft beauty. It's defiant and self-confident, not the dreamy feel of My Bloody Valentine or Gregor Samsa's delicacy, but still beautiful. That said, you might need a little tolerance for noise music around the edges to listen to it.
To Kill has a tendency to lend strength to their soft melodies through the crushing, grinding, scraping sounds of industrial noise. Given their unmastered tracks, I'd have no trouble reconstructing a pure noise album a la Masami Akita's work. But despite this, the overall effect seems like a collection of songs that wouldn't be out of place coming from the throat of a busker on the street in some French village, transforming some art movie with an almost eerily beautiful and softly eloquent atmosphere.
Acoustic guitars and atmospherics and soft vocals and noise samples and gritty sines and drum machines all in one place, arranged to perfection. To Kill a Petty Bourgeousie is compelling, entrancing, mind-numbing and consistently interesting. They don't write songs the way everyone does, nor do they play songs the way everyone does. But they're definitely doing something right.