Hardcore institution, Patac Records, are one of my favorite purveyors of scumbag, splatter, hardcore, punk, metal CD's, vinyl and cassettes. They've been uncaging these raging sounds of ultimate distortion since 2008 and have amassed a huge catalog of decrepit, politically-incorrect, gutter punk. Each release is packaged with tender love and care, and a shot of penicillin. Colored vinyl, hand-numbered, die-cut. You name it. Patac loves their music and the packaging reflects this.
Recently, main man, Patac himself, tossed me a folder full of 7"s and CD's. Let's lift the lid off the coffin, then shall we, and take a peek at the decomposing offers hidden inside. Keep your rubber gloves at the ready, cause the contents are sure to be infectious.
.JPG)
Holy crap this record scared the hell outta me when I first opened it. Chainsaw die cut vinyl that's sharp enough to draw blood and commit unspeakable crimes. Turns out, that was just the warm up, and playing the 4-song EP by Massachusetts-based hardcore grinders, Psycho, was the real terror. Blistering, scuzz punk crawling out of the gutter and puking on your welcome mat. There's instruments here playing real chords, but that's probably just a mistake. Like the vinyl, these guys take a buzzsaw approach towards their guitars and songwriting with guitars going 100 mph, and drums pounding faster than a jackhammer. Vocals are an idea, rather than an execution, but the thought still comes across loud and clear. There's enough hate in here to firebomb a nation of capitalists.
With a band name like Psycho and member names like Charlie Infection and Cody Molest, you know what you're getting. 4 songs of disgusto-punk and I couldn't be happier about it. Brutal slime-oid stuff.
With a name like that, you may not expect that these disgusto-punk/metallers actually got a handle on song structure and melody. They also got a vial full of some mucoid-sleaze and they're not afraid to use it. Sputum dripping, bodily-fluid soaked spit and roll with some serious guitar chops and a bucket-load of meth in the rhythm section. Killer assault of degenerate punk. 4 songs of desperate outsider wailing, like "I Don't Belong" held together with blood and passion. So dripping with fluids you half expect it to leave skidmarks on your turntable.
Like an aural STD. Just as slimy and just as contagious. On puke-green colored vinyl. Simply perfect.
Fuck. Wasn't expecting this. After the toned-down, haunted/spoken intro, a real guitar solo breaks out. From where? I don't know, but it's freaking killer and unlike any punk 7" I'd ever heard. It makes the eruption of punk riffing and growling that much more effective when the boys race off into a terrifying punk/metal crossover raging in true Motorhead-inspired fury. Grinding metallic chords played fast and intent, pounding bass as if Lemmy had spawned a mutant son, and drums keeping pace with the methamphetamine raging through the blood stream.
Pure hardcore-metal crossover bliss coming from Sweden. 4-songs at 33 rpm. Think the Hellacopters dressed in leather, ramrodding their Harley's through front doors of a rival biker bar looking for a fight. I'm sold.
Chain links and brass knuckles aren't included with this 10" 5-song EP but are highly recommended. Violence will break out immediately upon playing. Be prepared.
I'd never heard of the Bastards before, but they're on my radar now. Mainly so I stay the hell away when they come war-ravaging into my town before they cause me bodily harm. Forget that, just playing this brutalthrash/crust crossover can do that. These guys lay it down thick and hard with a non-stop hardcore groove. Like their name implies, this is a pummeling, artillery-ready assault from an armored division of pissed-off miscretins. And just about as unrelenting as that panzer division setting sights and laying waste to the world around you.
Motor-crust of the highest order.
Be sure to visit http://www.patacrecords.com to pick these titles and tons of other great punk, hardcore and metal records!
--Racer
Comments