Denton, TX must be the burgeoning spot for good bands these days. I can think of at least four off the top—ANS, Marked Men, Teenage Cool Kids—and these here Wiccans. That’s more than I can say about any city in California, or New York, or... I was in Denton about four years ago, and thought it was a cool town, but I was totally unaware of the scene that was happening there, outside of ANS and the Xtreme Dudes Manor. Fuck, I’ll have to be a little more investigative next time I’m there. Wiccans play some raw and unadorned hardcore punk with no immediate comparisons, which is a rarity anymore. The vocals have a dry, raspy sound, while the music is jammed, not in the hippy prog way, but the physical way, out of the speakers and into your ears. Some stop-go rhythms, some speed, some noisy and sickly sounding excursions, and really curious lyrics for songs like “Endgame”—“Blind faces under the robe / Some have become amphibian” and “Teenage Cults”—“Angular droves of animals / Frozen in waste / Crippled and placed in rows of eight.” Repeated listens are required and decoder rings are useless. Perhaps it’s time to reinstate the X-files? Only a mere three hundred of this were pressed. Do or die.
–M.Avrg (Pass Judgement, passjudgementrecords.com)