Mad, maddening punk from out of Cleveland that should really be too infuriating for words and yet somehow manages to nail it. Odd, angular, chromatic riffs click together like repurposed toy parts and snot-splatter vocals deliver a nasal mix of nonsense non-sequiturs and tinfoil hat theories. While sparse and spare the cumulative effect is bizarrely mind-numbingly: an incessant staccato yammer that sounds like fucking nonsense the first time or two you hear it but gradually begins to make sense, as though coded messages between the record’s grooves are slowly beginning to take hold. Devo and The Screamers are obvious points of reference, but an uglier, more warped, more intentionally annoying take on the conspiracy-minded Uranium Club also fits, as does Neon King Kong if they were less intent on being sassy and more focused on phoning through bomb scares to drab municipal buildings.
