Talk about fucking whiplash. This 7” lurches between thrashy blast beats and slow grooves dripping with black sludge, throwing in a couple seconds of mid-tempo metallic hardcore every so often for good measure. No use trying to pick out any lyrics. Sick/Tired sticks to the traditional grindcore vocal pairing of screeching banshee and growling guy who sounds like he’s drowning in the blood of his own evisceration. Sometimes I wonder if the guys in these bands just record five minutes of impenetrable screaming sounds and then slap some angry words on for the lyrics sheet. Frankly, it doesn’t matter what exactly they’re saying because every second of this record oozes pure fucking vitriol. The bleak cover art lets you know what you’re getting into when you throw this on—and god help you if you go in unprepared. On that note, I accidentally started the record at 33 1/3 RPM the first time around and it made the most brutal and horrifying sound I’ve ever heard. Would not recommend for naptime.
–Indiana Laub (Profane Existence)