The Wire-July 2004 issue 245: "Though their previous releases were impressively dense, last year's Halve Maen felt like Double Leopards' defining moment, a massive hole that swallowed every pebble of this Brooklyn quartet's gravelly drone. Urban Concussion, a beautifully titled pic disk on QBICO label, at fisrt seems smaller in scope. It's limited ed., 32 min. in length, and coated with a glowing Graham Lambkin artwork that's so eye-freezing it's tempting to hang the record on the wall without ever placing it under the needle. But once the stylus hits, Urban Concussion is as cavernous and gravitational as its predecessor. Side one begins with a warped hum and some intermittent claking, resembling Morse code from a distant star. Low spoken vocals echo in the background, combining with wavering feedback and busy ambience to create the feel of a hallucinatory train station. Live, DL' power rises with amplification and room size, but here they prove equally adept at limiting its dimensions, gaining speed so gradually it's like watching technicolor grass grow. 15 min. in , a hollow roar slides into a beam of treble, then decays into gitty rumble akin to a fuzzy needle stuck happily on a groove. Side two is more open and roomy, with distinct noises more prevalent than heavy drones. Ping-ponged bleeps, propellered whirrs and shards of abrasion all push and shove. While the range of sounds hardly varies throught the track's 14 min., the permutations are fascinatingly unpatterned, like a simple mathematical exercise that accidentally creates infinity inside a box. But DL can never stray too far from drone, and Urban Concussion ends by immersing the listener in a planet sized seashell that this stellar group seems to have patented." Marc Masters. Description from QBICO.