Violence Creeps released one of my favourite 7"s of 2015, so I was more than a little eager to track this one down. Have to admit that the first spin was a tad disappointing: it's a lot less raw and a lot less sloppy than the 'On My Turf' material, the six songs (one a leery Soft Cell cover) having a directness to them that actually borders on the coherent. After several spins, however, the thing got its muck-clogged claws in me: the roiling, lost-in-a-gluebag vibes, searing snark and bitter ennui reminiscent of Fang or a scungier, more lo-fi Pissed Jeans. There's an overriding sense that things continue relentlessly purely because there‚Äôs nothing much else to do, and the hectoring, prurient vocals convey a sticky sense of loathing that's focused both inward and toward the general public. These, of course, are all Good Things, ultimately serving to make good on the promise of the EP's sneeringly sardonic title.