
Take Your Stinkin' Paws Off Me You Damn Dirty Ape! To the untrained ear grindcore may indeed sound like a bunch of unwashed hairy apes proceeding to violate instruments as pieces of paraphernalia to bludgeon and caterwaul in the most graceless of customs... wait that's exactly what grindcore is, erm right, lets move along.
Spain's Violent Headache lead the vanguard of the compilation levying a sooty rag-tag patchwork of early Dahmer and earlier still Napalm Death into an overzealous crust crusade. The band themselves represent one of Spains most accomplished yet criminally underrated grind contributors, their hard featured loom of extrovert crust and primal grindcore is as deadly as it is musically repugnant, a combination like to bring a singular approving nod from any self respecting grindcore fan; and their contribution to the comp is no different. It might be a bit moth-bitten at times as its archaic blusters reek of the early 90's, but that may easily be forgiven since the material itself dates back to 1996 yet more importantly its one of those timeless still breaking from the Siege blueprint inspired grindcore affairs that never gets old.
Far less serious, but equally visceral in delivery are Captain Three Leg who depart from their traditional make noise not music competence and go for an all out punk attack that easily ranks as one of the greatest musical U turns to date, because Captain Three Leg are killing it as if Slap-a-ham 1 to 50 were the only albums ever conceived in the history of punk. Its the excitability of Spazz with the delivery of Lack of Interest ; have I just come across my new favourite old-school style Powerviolence band? I think so. Stylised mischievous vocals are sprayed against a wall of spasmodic riffs and holding an equally evasive drum rhetoric necessitates that at the end of their 15 track contribution to the comp you will need both scoop up your grey matter and pick up your jaw from the floor. If Captain Three Leg are reading this then I demand/beg of you to make more of this.
If you are anything like myself then after listening to Captain Three Leg for about the 100th time you will finally decide to move along with the compilation and will be greeted with the familiar surfs-up warm breeze of Wadge. For the uninitiated Wadge represent the most outrageous of matrimonies by unifying the Hawaiian culture and history to the cold and ultimately hostile spirits of Grindcore, the dedication to the theme extending well beyond lyrics and album arts but a full fledged substantive foundation to the rhythmic direction. Wadge without a doubt are an acquired taste, but they also happen to be one of the most creative bands and somehow have not exhausted the whole Hawaii-Grind type theme yet, who would of thought there was enough blood in such an affair? Give me tiki-bearing surfing midget spirits over Transylvanian grimoire any day of the week.
Next up are Iron Butter, an Anal Cunt Noisecore incarnate of sorts, marginally more co-ordinated in form, although still wholly skeletal orchestrally, but with a far greater arch of devastation as they release their tortured grind scrawl. Indomitably untamed throughout, as each track bursts in from the other a sort of grand sense of delusion seems to tighten its grip almost justifying the band as the expressions of some sort of misunderstood lunatic. Their ending track is a total buzzkill however, If I wanted to listen to a full minute of autotuned hip-hop nonsense I would of turned on MTV.
Rupture bring the comp back into the flow of things, its easy to forget just how fast this band are/were, either that or someone has been a bit too overzealous with the fast forward button. Production is ungracious and for the most part a diluted blur of elements and crackling feedback, and there are moments when I am not sure if I am listening to Rupture or Gorgonized Dorks. Bad production has never stopped me from liking a band before, and if you concentrate hard enough demystifying the opaque cling film that obscures the lot, there are some really choice riffs going on and a lively vocal throttle too, yet the percussion remains the key casualty of the sandpaper production.
You ever seen the Sopranos? There is this one trivial minor reoccurring character, a comedian whose comedy is so vapid more laughs may be derived from the presence of a dead animal than the entirety of his routine; and I feel the same about Fossil Fuel. Its click drum seedy rock n roll comedy wrought with artistic licence, joyfully teasing its parts and sources, its own self-deprication intentionally a source of humour, but it just all falls flat from the very beginning. Sticks out like a sore thumb, pity the CD is not CD-RW.
Pantalones Abajo Marinero are gore drum machine set up, some really good riffs in there and considering that its a drum machine there are quite a few commendable choices in how the drums are employed, but its the Gremlins vocal style that throws me off, the more I hear it the more infuriated I become. As you may know I am not a fan of gore type stuff, but I would imagine that for those of you that are then Pantalones Abajo Marinero would be just the ticket for blood splatter and manic smiles.
Whoretorn are a form of goreish band I can get behind, nothing but pure pummelling fury, although they only contribute two songs to the compilation the density of their tracks easily remedies any misgivings and puts them among the top contributors to the comp in terms of blast beats served and blunt force trauma inflicted. Vocals sound identical to Seth Putnams idiosyncratic banshee shrill, combining that with the low end elastic grooves Whoretorn serve up with mean efficiency and control makes them a force to be reckoned with.
Dysmorfic are somewhat more casual than Whoretorn, but offer a solid grind masquerade no less, higher on the register and alot more dexterous in delivery. Real solid effort with little to moan about, alot of tension in the works and while guitars more often than not are rather conservative delivering what they do best; short controlled bursts of punk bile, their guitar adventurism doesn't go amiss and put on offer some rather unexpected turns that hook nicely deep.
Mortville Noise / At War With False Noise / DIY Noise / Hurts To Hear / Pure Fckn' Hate Prod. / Luchacore Records























