I first clashed heads with Pasadena Napalm Division on their P.N.D. EP back in 2010. Lot of fun it was too and I was glad to meet their acquaintance and all that malarkey. Not that they were all complete strangers or anything as vocalist Kurt Brecht was already well known for being a bit of a Dirty Rotten Imbecile and I can assure you that this is not an insult. Three of the other members of the band are also in crossover act Dead Horse leaving just bassist, backing vocalist Bubba Dennis II having been in no other bands but with a name like that he is excused.
You can guess what sort of style this is going to be with just one look at the Tromaesque cover. Yes it’s fun thrash, hardcore, punk, crossover in fact some of the songs like the opening ‘100 Beers With A Zombie’ have indeed crossed over from the bands previous EP. No problem with that at all and Pasadena sounds like a swell place at first I mean drinking with the living dead sounds great, it’s normally just your blood they want to sup on, so I am all for this. Not sure I could cope with 100 though that might kill me but at least I would be in good company! This romps along nicely and snaps at your ankles with great and amusing lyrical rhyming about it as the story is told. Just as I was thinking of moving to the band’s backyard though we get the other side of the coin and we are full of ‘Bleach Blonde Despair.’ But do I care, I have very little hair (hey I can play this game). Seriously though folks downer song time; life aint fair this is the despair complete with good gang shouts from the backing band members and a vocal delivery that is quite reminiscent of Jello Biafra to my ears. There’s even a bit of a stoner redneck sounding part to this one and despite the content you can’t help grinning like a goon.
What I like about this album is every song of the 13 on it tells a story and one that you can enjoy or just get thirsty and miserable with. Naturally the three minute mark is the average too so nothing hangs around too long, in fact with the speed of some of them they practically rip yer head off. There’s some good old slacker, nihilism numbers like ‘Don’t Care’ and ‘Failure’ which particularly impresses with the machine gun delivery of the first letter of the word f f f fucking . ‘Dreamland’ sandwiches these nicely and tells of the perfect place where there’s stacks of rare vinyl, everyone loves the band, their shows are well advertised, they get fed and they have a proper tour bus. Yep dream it is I reckon chaps. The speed punk approach of ‘My Own Little God’ makes you want to skate and wipe out and as for ‘Murder The Bearded Lady’ well it’s a bit harsh and I do try dropping hints buying my mother razor blades! Even Tony Foresta is having a go at her in this one as he takes over on lead vocals.
There is lots to like about this little bomb of an album. I am all too fed up with the new wave of thrash metal but this sounds like it really did back in the day and proves that whilst you can teach new dogs old tricks the old ones do them the best of all. As we continue through ‘Non Ti Amo’ which sounds like a Spanish street gang marching on someone who has stepped into their territory to the alphabet lesson of ‘Spell It Out’ there’s stacks going on to keep you entertained.
End prognosis I am not gonna move to Pasadena it seemed like a bit of a rash decision and I probably won’t be booking a holiday there any time soon. One thing I will do is visit by via this album again as it’s a sweet trip and gets me pumped up old school style (feels the need to finish with the word motherfucker but will resist) damn!
(7.5/10 Pete Woods)
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