Interest piqued
following the review in Classic Rock that called it 'unlistenable', I thus
requested a copy, battened down the hatches and prepared for the worst.
It's not unlistenable through being shite but by being an acutely obtuse
gamut you're forced to endure while a platoon of sadistic marines batters
you with soap and pelts you with stones for your perceived sins. I'm not
exactly too sure what they've got against me and the world, especially on
this fragile and frosty Monday morn, but I sure fell into their well
sprung trap as they fulfill their promise to 'brutalize people and have
each song punch people in the face until they were choking on their own
blood'. I await to see how this approach will affect album sales...It's
hard to follow as the lyric sheet is helpfully, and no doubt purposefully,
in random order. Trying to decipher what Wes Eisold is ranting about is
like conversing with canines. Or Shane MacGowan.
This punishment manifesto is akin to undergoing surgery without
anesthesia...a Clive Barker skin-ripping film with updated CGI
effects...put through a G-Force of such grinding intensity you can
almost feel your insides becoming mincemeat. These are the sort of people
that'd get a job in an asylum just to amuse themselves by removing the
pads from the cells and undoing inmates straightjackets to watch
them disembowel themselves. At the very least people who'd have Napalm
Death played at their wedding....and Anal Cunt at their Aunt Martha's
funeral. Songs run at counterpoints to each other, in a way
like The Birthday Party, buckling under the weight of runaway train guitar
steamrollers, crushed into crevices on a construction site of nightmares
and going round Al Jourgensen's house for a spot of trick or treat. On the
odd lighter moment they aren't too far from The Catheters howl but the
overall effect is a bit like a stupid dog that won't give up trying to get
down a rabbit hole, or kids being to pipe down but for dumb kicks keep
going again once their Dad's left the room.
Pitiless,
sadistic, savage and lethal but also kinda pointless and idiotic too at
times. Essential if you wanna keep up with unguarded avant-hardcore-skronk.
Or just like the sound of your CD skipping, or you just want to annoy
someone. ________________________________________________________
Interest piqued
following the review in Classic Rock that called it 'unlistenable', I thus
requested a copy, battened down the hatches and prepared for the worst.
It's not unlistenable through being shite but by being an acutely obtuse
gamut you're forced to endure while a platoon of sadistic marines batters
you with soap and pelts you with stones for your perceived sins. I'm not
exactly too sure what they've got against me and the world, especially on
this fragile and frosty Monday morn, but I sure fell into their well
sprung trap as they fulfill their promise to 'brutalize people and have
each song punch people in the face until they were choking on their own
blood'. I await to see how this approach will affect album sales...It's
hard to follow as the lyric sheet is helpfully, and no doubt purposefully,
in random order. Trying to decipher what Wes Eisold is ranting about is
like conversing with canines. Or Shane MacGowan.