Yet another installment in this band’s slug-fest, wherein we’re slugged and sludged with a half-dozen oozing, sleazy, garage noise compositions. I think they’re pissed about something.
Ah! The garage aesthetic—you either like it, or you puke. Now Jeff, he likes it (the aesthetic, that is). The Pus, it’s not his cup of disease. Me, some’s got charm, but in small doses, unless it’s pure rockin’ noise. This particular manifestation of the genre has its moments (more than not) but it does wear thin after a while.
A garage/noise/punk amalgam that combines some thrash with pet rock and general aggression that lashes out at everything. Fun and annoying.