Off the top of my head, I can only think of two references to Munich, Germany. There is the Steven Spielberg-directed film, called Munich, where Eric Bana goes around blowing the shit out of terrorists. And then there is Sonic Abuse, the punk band from Munich, Germany whose debut EP I have the pleasure of listening to right now. The only scene I remember from the movie is when an antagonist lays down on his hotel bed, not knowing the mattress springs are rigged to an explosive. Seconds later, his torso—sans limbs—is hanging from the ceiling fan, slowly spinning, dripping blood. Sonic Abuse is kind of like that, only the fan is spinning much faster than any domestic ceiling fan ought to, causing the blood to fly and creating a circle of carnage on the cream-colored hotel walls. This album is fast, unrelenting, raw power but the songwriting is not without a sense of humor. If you read the lyrics, for they are far too fast to understand and contemplate, you would hear nods to getting laid, hating jazz music, genocidal icemen from outer space, and Douglas Adams’sHitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
–John Mule (Munich Punk Shop)