We’re in the church of repetition where the spray paint on the alter says ‘one good riff is good enough so don’t waste it’.
“With a gratuitously wiry dirt-driven grind of petulant punk and hot grit, ‘Going To the Races (Dressed Like A Racist)’ is a bludgeoning blast of mean squealing…”
“This is no-wave aggression with goth-static feedback and a psychedelic twist of industrial noise…”
“Themed on winter reflections in their respective environments, both acts tease out their own sets of textures… where ‘Field Ring Split #1’ keeps its purpose and grip, there’s a sweep spot of warm isolation.”
“Play everything loud or don’t play it at all is the mantra throughout the LP, the result is a set of teased stop/start releases that attack and pull back and assault…”
Imagine a home printed scuffed up cassette-tape gets pressed into your clam sweaty hands, you’re told ‘right here’s […]