Noisy, exhaustive, caustic, and a sure way to piss off the neighbors, if it doesn’t piss off the listener first. Think Flipper, Suicide, Men’s Recovery Project; disjointed jangles that break off like knife points in a stiff corpse of songs; guitars that come like meteor showers and clang like empty cans or squeal like raped cats. It takes a special type of listener. When I’m so angry I can’t think, this stuff works very well. When I’m in traffic and can’t afford my mellow to be harshed, it’s a bad, bad idea to put on. The lyrics are a hoot, though, and are pretty much all about sex. (“Sometimes I just gotta jerk off/ my nuts are a pressure cooker” and “I told her I don’t like the way her pussy tastes and she said ‘sush’ as she sat on my face” are two random samples.) The album constantly made me grit my teeth and get my jaw all sore. Not for everybody. As a matter of fact, not for a lot of people, but if you like your music not necessarily pissed off, but will make you a fucking angry hornet, here you go. Have to give ‘em points for not being emo.
–todd (Skin Graft)