RED KATE / STIFF MIDDLE FINGERS: Split: 7”

Kansas City’s Red Kate opens up with “Urban Church.” Don’t be fooled, 45 RPM is the correct speed. Squealing and squirming, this shit shreds at frequencies that made my dog anxious. These guys have the energy and passion to cause even the most devout to doubt their doctrine. On to “Hole”; the more you fill it, the more structure crumbles away. Clamoring to keep it together, stuffing it up with whatever loose ends are laying about; it’s just a temporary solution to combat the ever-expanding void, a chasm that will inevitably swallow us entirely. Ripping it up and tearing it down, Red Kate understands your discontent and will hand you the sledge hammer. I don’t know what they are putting in the water down in Lawrence, Kan., but here’s another band that’s kicking ass and captivating its prisoners. Stiff Middle Fingers “3 Minutes to Midnight” reads like a demented, depressed Dr. Seuss poem and sounds like a good old cow punk hoedown. The sentiment can be summed up by these few lines: “Looking in a trashcan is like looking in a mirror. A reeking pile of shit it’s almost more than I can bear. My lust for life is growing thinner than my fucking hair.” Any angry, aging punk approaching forty can relate. Listen loud and listen much. The production is stellar. –Jackie Rusted (black-site.org)