Dank, murky, filth-strewn hardcore of a type all too rarely seen these days. Metallic, but not metal. Sludge-infused, but neither in thrall to the riff or the weed. Hardcore, but more in spirit than sound. While the parentage is dubious, debts in flesh and blood are owed to the likes of Cattlepress and Dystopia, and amidst the crushing misery of it all clanks the languishing spirit of early Swans. The resultant six tracks, needless to say, are rather fucking grim: crushing, dissonant and painful to the very bitter end.
