After a couple of stylistic experiments ANb are back in the saddle with two ramraiding blurts of drummachine madness, a 45rpm assault on the senses that leaves you a quivering blob of human jelly without an unbroken bone in your body. Elsewhere there’s more disjointed fuckwittery from everyone’s favourite Robert E. Howard-fixated nutjobs, their side of this thing a multiple personality disorder of metal, grind and knuckle-dragging sloth that’s more in line with their ‘Cocaine Wars’ opus than last year’s ‘Hot Sumerian Nights’. Bonkers and damn well essential all-round.
