What in god’s name has come over me? I get a new HFOS recording and I start to pant and squirm and quake like a pubescent girl front row at a Justin Timberlame concert. I can feel my journalistic dignity wriggling down my legs and flying away from me like a pair of love-soaked underpants sailing stage-ward. I gotta get a grip on myself. But hot damn – these demento-shaman satan grooves have real honest-to-goodness demon blood pouring out of them and splattering everything in sight with a happy dangerous idiocy. Woof. Step right up and get yours. This here HFOS band blasts you in the face like a baseball bat covered with snot. And you will ask for more.
–aphid (Ken Rock)