From its opening 30 seconds of bagpipe glitch
to the final, triumphant crunchcore meltdown,
this debut hits you like a paperweight
flung from the window of a first-class carriage
onto the platform of a dozy village station.
It might've easily brained a war-widow!
Instead, it found your temple and now you're dead,
and that is a blessing, my friend, because after listening to this
the rest of your life would have felt as empty
as the inside of a tennis ball.
What does it sound like? Your mum
fed toes-first into a mangle, a bugle pressed to her lips,
the noise chopped and compressed
and layered with dreamy lithium-infused vocals
and underscored by pounding toms.
It's a two-fingered salute hiked out of the Styx
by a drowning angel, and a hot buttered croissant
pushed into the mouth of a famine-ravaged child.
2/5
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