Labels: Arschkarte
Review by: Alex Deller
Odd. I remember getting this in the mail, slapping it down and getting bored mid-way through the second song. This time around it’s a wholly different kettle of fish. This could, of course, just be because the last record to spin was utter bullshit, but whatever “” right now Svartenbrandt’s brand of crust n’ roll is really hitting the mark. Not a million miles away sonically from the excellent Skitkids (though, admittedly, nowhere near as good”¦) these noisy fucks blast out eleven rabid punk numbers, frothing at the mouth about George Bush, Jesus, apathy and how much they love to see their friends’ bands play (awww”¦), injecting the time-honoured crustiness with some decent rock chops to keep things on their toes.