Warning, this Scottish trio of noiseniks are seriously whacky! They seem to want to be hidden by search engines between the thighs of Ms Spears and have a serious affiliation to all things beefy. This, their cunningly entitled 3rd release came with a predominantly pink cover, something I never particularly trust as it goes against all conventions and guess what, so does their music too. When I say music I use the term very loosely as the 12 tracks here running at a scant 21 minutes are not all of that scope unless you count interludes like someone throwing up down a toilet a melodic feast. When they are playing though it’s a rapid collage of sounds thrown together like a jigsaw puzzle where all the pieces have been forced to interlock giving you a picture probably not dissimilar to the album artwork itself. Calling it mathcore and punk and throwing in similarities to The Dillinger Escape Plan will get you a layman’s idea of just what to expect but that’s just the tip of this exercise in avant-skronk-ritlin-rock from a group who display serious ADD tendencies in their unbalanced disharmonic universe.
After a bout of groaning, opener ‘Fully Ben’ sounds like Devin Townsend has necked every chemical in the bathroom cabinet and gone on a Zappatastic binge. It’s full of juddering rhythmic thrusts but somehow gels together if you too kind of grasp the insane side of things in life. If you don’t, well the stop button will no doubt have been swiftly hit and said disc extracted and flung out the nearest window after being set on fire. Things don’t become any more bearable after this as they blast out proggy metamorphosing riffs and bombastic drum flourishes that would make a band like the Cardiacs seem completely normal on tracks like Sneezefic (a title that’s a whole box of tissues short of a major clean-up operation). The zaniness continues with plenty of wild yelling and unhinged shrieks that must be interesting to experience live although the place they sound like performances are best suited to are the local mental institution.
The short running time may feel like a cop-out but if you imagined this at double the length it seriously is a blessing in disguise as the band continue to rock out with all the more fervent disregarded for anything ever described as a normal tune on the jarring ‘Neon Python’ and then gabble away like straightjacket clad loons on ‘H-142’ thinking that they are indeed a League Of Extraordinary Gentleman. The effects of dabbling with said concoction lead to that vomitory evacuation but it’s not like they have learned their lesson as the rest of the album is just as mentally off its face as a herd of rhino on PCP.
This certainly isn’t an album for everyone but after subjecting myself to it in rapid playback sessions over the last few days I can only escape from the experience with something in the way of admiration for the bands efforts. If you are looking for a trip into a whole other parallel universe hit the links below and prepare for a wild topsy-turvy ride. One bit of advice though, don’t attempt to listen with a hangover; ye gods no!
(7/10 Pete Woods)
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