Holy Christ-crankin muttonchops, if this ain’t the fucked-upedest record I’ve heard in years, if not ever! I’m gonna call them a grind band, as that’s the common element, but EVERY SINGLE SONG (there are sixty-six) jumps from grind to one or more other things and back again like a flea on a meth binge: lounge jazz, ska, other kinds of jazz I don’t know the name of, disco (they cover “Good Times”), flute solos, you name it. I wanna say it’s like the Residents doing Napalm Death, but that seriously barely approaches the amazingly curdled reality of these German fruitcakes. I don’t even know if I like the fucking thing; every time I put it on, my jaw drops open and stays that way until it goes off. Jeez.
–doug (RSR/Life Is Abuse)