Iron Guts Kelly Burnt EP
Lawrence, Kansas’ IRON GUTS KELLY take their name from a more ridiculous episode of M*A*S*H, set during the ’50s Korean War, where a general dies in the embrace of one of the camp’s nurses, and his death is then reconstructed to appear as being in the heat of battle. The band’s outlook seems rooted in the same sort of dark irony: the EP’s cover features a drawing of a punked-out ubiquitous Kansas sunflower flipping the bird, but the humor ends there, with four tracks of meat and potatoes angry hardcore that falls somewhere between the rock edge of STRYCHNINE and the blunt force of SLAPSHOT. This decade-and-a-half-old band’s earliest recordings had the feel of early, simplistic DR. KNOW, with sustained vowels and simple thrashings, but the singer growls a bit harder here, as the playing is more confident and ambitious within its economy. No lyric sheet, but the vocals are clear enough, and “Goodfellas” is a standout track with its chorus-driven affirmation of punk community and camaraderie, rung in with a “Salad Days”-style bell intro. Slightly better production would’ve shined that one up even further.
