Sloppy, protean and honestly quite stressful punk, torn from a crude demo tape and vomited into our laps some 40 years after it was first grudgingly digested. The whole thing uses ignorance, ineptitude and sheer inability as sticks with which to beat you, the band blurting forth a blunt-edged squall of feedback, grumbling bass runs and aggrieved, hectoring vocals. Sonically it’s like a Disorder squat gig being consumed by a mudslide, and the tense, urgent delivery seems to have the power to close up your chest and make you feel like you’re breathing through a busted nose. Six tracks, a neat 12-page booklet and a whole lot of raw, exhilarating noise, in a nutshell.
