Still Believing in ANOK: Firing Squad "S/t" Ep, 1993

When I came up with the selection for the present series Still Believing in ANOK I did not realize how little-known a lot of the records I picked were. Not in the sense that they are hard to find - though some of them are - but because people forgot about them or never really cared for them in the first place. Locality matters of course and some seemingly unknown bands were actually famous in their home country (like Stracony and others we'll tackle later on) but on the whole, from a global eagle-like perspective, well, they are a bit obscure but not in a good way and it can be difficult to grab people's precious volatile attention with old unloved records that have set camp in the £1 discount boxes since 2006, proof that, not only were they never deemed "all-time classics" but that they also never deserved to be crowned retroactively. I see some of the records included in this series as "minor anarchopunk classics" - a euphemism meaning I think they are brilliant but did not sell well - and others as relevant interesting artifacts of a sound and aesthetics that were no longer popular at that time. Of course, because life, like my dad's diatribes, is made of contradictions, today's record, Firing Squad's 1993 Ep cannot reasonably be said to belong to either category thus rendering this first paragraph kinda useless. 

Firing Squad are proper obscure, even to anarchopunk platinum users. In fact, they are a bit of an enigma, and, were it not for this record having been released on Mass Media Records, I suppose they would have been totally engulfed into oblivion and most elite nerds like myself wouldn't have had the pleasure the patronize a teenage punk with sentences such as "Firing Squad were pretty big in my days, at least three people knew of them back then" or "did you know there was already a 80's hardcore band from the state of Washington called Firing Squad? Oh you don't, well that's not on Tok Tube now, is it?". I wonder why there aren't more kids at punk shows... Anyway, I don't remember when I got the Ep, definitely a long time ago, but it was the connection with Mass Media that prompted the transaction. The rather cryptic cover did not help: it depicts a lion biting a medieval representation of the sun under the watchful eyes of four shades-wearing clowns (Pierrots probably), the whole thing over a tridimensional psychedelic checkered background. Why is the sun bleeding over a globe (is it supposed to be the Earth?)? Why so much symbolism? It looks like a tarot card. The backcover is as confusing: more of the same crazy background and a two-headed dragon with the sun on the left and the moon on the right. How the hell are you supposed to know it is a punk record? Thank fuck the Mass Media logo has a circled A and some doves because otherwise I would have been far too narrow-minded to even consider looking at it. 

The visual side of the Ep aside (be careful when you unfold the cover, if you do not enjoy visual illusions, have a sick bag handy), there is no indication as to where Firing Squad came from. On the insert of the No Lip Service compilation Ep, where they appeared, also released on Mass Media, their address is located in Newbury Park, Ventura County, California. In spite of a very dynamic peacepunk and crust scene at that time in Southern California - well-documented on Terminal Sound Nuisance - with bands like Resist and Exist, Autonomy or Media Children offering a sound very much influenced by old-school anarchopunk, it would make sense to endeavour that Firing Squad belonged to that part of the punk scene but they did not really, although they crossed paths. This makes them even more mysterious, especially since you could argue that they also played old-school anarchopunk, although their take was significantly different.

Firing Squad's music is original. The Ep is not a note-perfect masterclass but it has an undeniable charm that makes it quite compelling. The first song is an emotional (it was the 90's after all) and tuneful mid-paced number with an underlying moodiness and snotty angry vocals that go surprisingly well with the music. Just imagine a depressive jam between Chumbawamba and Conflict with a bit of an emocore vibe, or let's just say that Nabate would have been well into this. The other side is even more challenging as "Declare civil war" is basically a reggae song. Yes, a reggae song. Now, when I was getting into serious music - also known as my "how many patches can I fit on this black denim jacket?" phase - listening to reggae was akin to ordering tap water on a date for me: have some self-respect and run for your life and quick. But then, I grew a bit softer, stopped trying and got really into the British anarcho dub punk bands like PAIN or AOS3 and that's exactly the vibe I am getting from this song, only with a bit of flanger oddness. After a couple of minutes, it turns into a straight-up raucous punk anthem with great singalongs that would not have sounded out of place on the Resist/Deprived split Ep. 

No idea what that is

The song they contributed to the aforementioned Not Lip Service Ep was equally fresh, angry yet catchy, maybe a bit angrier too, and it goes to show that this inventive band had a great potential and possibly a genuinely classic album in them. The band used some clever sound effects on their sound and with the production being quite raw and direct, it confers a very organic spontaneous vibe to the songs which makes me go back to the Ep's atmosphere quite often. It is, as much as I hate the term, a "grower". Instead of looking at the 80's sound, it might be more relevant to see Firing Squad as a definite 90's one. A moodier weirder version of One By One, AOS3 or Civil Disobedience? A depressed prelude to A//Political? 

Just listen to the record I guess.      

That's a definite no

Firing Squad

Booze, Life and MISERY: a Look at Three Ep's from One of Crust's Greatest

You all know Misery (and if you've ever been dumped during your secondary school years you've experienced misery too). If Prince was the prince of pop music then Misery are the princes of US crust music. Not that Minneapolis is an aristocratic hotspot but you get the idea. Although I am under the impression that they are semi-retired at the time of rambling - oh rage! oh despair! oh age, my enemy! - the band has been the real deal and delivered the crust for 25 years. By the early noughties, the majority of the 90's crust icons had but fallen with varying degrees of heroism on the battlefield of punk. Some, like Hiatus, died standing up still holding a half empty bottle of tripel (though they finally did come back from the grave recently), others like Warcollapse managed to soldier on but had to go on hiatuses on several occasions to survive. Disrupt and Destroy! did not get to live long enough to see 1995 and legendary Japanese pioneers SDS and Gloom barely made it to the next decade. The new millennia had arrived. Once healthy, flourishing sectors of the crust scene were engulfed in flames and overrun with epic emotional guitar leads, baseball hats and bands owning more pedals than own songs. The classic eurocrust style never really got up from this heavy blow, with still some exceptions, and the death certificate was on the table when it transpired that the new wave of 00's crust bands enjoyed wearing Vans and maintaining an acceptable level of cleanliness. Fucking posers. 

 

The metallic brand of apocalyptic crust did survive thanks, notably, to a major revival in the mid-00's and although there is no denying that the popularity of crust music has been declining steadily, dauntless groups of valiant crust survivors managed to carry the original old-school sound and spirit on their shoulders through more than two decades and no one has stood for this admirable resilience better than Minneapolis' finest, Misery. Misery is what can be called a "name band". If you have been into hardcore punk for a decent number of years, you've either at least heard of them at some point or used to have a dodgy roommate who wore a patch of them, often the same fellow who favoured records over rents. There is no exception. Misery is a prerequisite for any entry-level crusty (you can get extra crust points if you identify the reference in the article's title by the way). What is even more remarkable in their case is that they formed as early as 1987 which makes them a first generation US crust band, like Disrupt or their Minneapolis comrades Destroy!, and on the other side of the country Apocalypse, A//Solution and Glycine Max. New York City's Nausea are also often considered as one of the very first crust bands nationally because they were around since 1985 but they only really started to sound like crust - as commonly defined by the British Mermaid crust wave of Hellbastard, Deviated Instinct et al. - when Al, actually Misery's first singer, joined sometime in 1988. Interestingly, Misery would release two full Ep's in 1989 before Nausea got to release their own crust masterpiece Extinction in 1990. But let's stop arsing about, it's all good shit. Misery were among the first on the starting line, even though in 1987 they were probably just scruffy kids messing about in a studio getting pissed and making a lot of noise (in that order). Like any other tribe, the North-American Crusties, in order to thrive and eventually reproduce, need strong origin stories. These allow them to find their place and some balance in the sometimes ruthless wider punk world, one that have seen rival tribes prosper in later years. Tales of glorious late 80's crust bands reinforce a sense of belonging to a strong American tradition of soap-dodging Amebix-worshipping individuals and validate a tradition spawning over three decades so that it matters to underline Misery's place in the early crust pantheon. 

We are, as a social species, a bit odd and inhabited with rather morbid fascinations. People never like you more than when you are dead. Absence makes one great or, at least, greater, as if death somehow casts a glow of grandeur and produces a feeling of admiration and instant nostalgia. A statement that is as true for bands as it is for people. It sometimes looks like in order to become a "punk legend", you first have to die. Just think about the deificiation and hero worship of short-lived 80's bands while long-running bands are taken for granted and don't get the credit they deserve. I am personally always favourably impressed with bands who keep flying the flag undeterred, which does not mean I like all of them - some should objectively have been stopped a long time ago - but I like the quixotic romanticism and determination of playing in a punk band for decades. As a wise man might have said once - probably my role model Fat Bob but I could totally be making that up - "we're still bollocks but we're still here". Misery kept going through many trends, seemingly undisturbed, just being Misery. Of course, their sound changed a lot and the opposite would be almost worrying. Born, Fed... Slaughtered sounds very different to From the Seeds that we have Sown, but, in spite of the significant changes, the band's music has remained meaningfully recognizable because of the strong identity they managed to build throughout the years. You cannot really mistake Misery for any other crust band, an impressive feat considering the influence they have had on the global crust universe. One thing that characterizes the Misery sound is how punky it actually sounds and feels like. They have always been, first and foremost, a punk-rock band with several proper punk-rock-tinged songs in their repertoire (granted, these are much heavier than your ordinary punk-rock numbers) which, given the emphatic Bolt-Throwerization of the metallic crust sound from the 00's on, is quite remarkable and something that I, coming from a UK punk background and not a metal one, enjoy thoroughly. And of course, Misery's artwork and lyrics are punk-as-fuck, just taking a look at the drawings on Blindead - which includes drunk zombie punx with spiky hair, barely readable handwriting, a method for a beer bong game and a massive gratuitous "FUCK OFF" - has even the most unperceptive punk notice that the lads were listening to Disorder and charged punk just as much as Axegrinder, all in a boozy fashion.

 

But enough arse-licking, let's get to the core of the write-up. I chose to address three Misery records, all recorded in the crusty decade of the 1990's: Children of War because it unarguably stands as one of Misery's strongest records, Your Leaders were Lying because it showcases a live performance from a band that, according to reliable and sober enough witnesses, was brilliant on stage and the split with Assrash because it highlights the band's punkier worldview (a bit of an understatement in this case as we will see in due time). Let's start with the Children of War Ep, released in 1991 on Grind 'Til Total Perfection Records, an albatross of a name for what was a one-off sublabel of the then young Relapse Records (the record was also distributed as indicated by MCR Records from Kyoto). This was Misery's third Ep, after their deliciously raw debut Born Fed Slaughtered released in April, 1989 (a second version with a new mix and an additional song saw the light of the day the year after) and Blindead released in July, 1989 but recorded during the same session as the first Ep. Busy bees indeed since they also found the time to record a full Lp during the summer of 1990, Production Thru Destruction, released the following year on the French label (yes!) Intellectual Convulsion. They kept this rather incredible productivity (born out of destruction?) with their third Ep Children of War, recorded only five months after the Lp and eight months before their side of the split Lp with SDS a legendary 90's record and one of the most potent collisions in the memory of crustkind, possibly the best crust split record ever that can also be used as a spell to get your ex back and find the perfect job or as a talisman that can repel malevolent beings (like your neighbours, but play it really loud). 

 

But let's get back to Children of War. If you happen to have a friend who is unfamiliar with the work of Misery or if you just happen to have a friend at all, this Ep is an ideal introduction. The first two might be a little too raw and grinding for the uninitiated and a full Lp could be hard to stomach on a first date. My own initial introduction to Misery was through the Who's the Fool Lp, a recording which saw the band at its apex so that diving into it proved to be easy enough, although grasping properly what they were intending to create sonically can be said to be a more arduous task. Forget all the slandering and libeling about 90's crust punk and how all of it is supposedly generic, bland and redundant, Misery have always been the real deal, an innovative and creative band. Uneducated judgements such as these are always uttered by people wearing non-black shirts from trendy and "edgy" or "freaky" hardcore bands and secretly dreaming of drinking IPA on a Brooklyn rooftop instead of special brew in a rat-infested Leipzig Wagenplatz on a rainy October night. Beside, at least 10% of the 90's crust production was a bit original. At least. On Children of War, Misery's music was really falling into place and you could hear the different elements blending seamlessly together to shape the sound the band was known for in that decade. The Ep kicks off with the eponymous anthem "Children of war", one of their most famous and strongest early number. Mid- paced, anthemic and organically heavy Amebixian song with a strong '88-Axegrinder-meets-'87-Deviated-Instinct vibe. What made this song a proper "Misery song" was, first, the interaction between the two guitars, and, second, the bulldozing sound of the bass guitar. Not many, old-school metallic crust band played with two guitars as having two geezers rocking the same heavy apocalyptic riff all the time is a bit pointless. One of the guitars in Misery's music often concentrates on leads, eerie or epic tunes that help create a foreboding soundscape and draw the song to a particular mood that will define or herald what follows. The introduction of "Children of war" perfectly exemplifies this: miserable and atmospheric at first and then apocalyptic and seemingly unstoppable but interdependent. The bass sound also plays a crucial part in this shift. Misery were always very bass-driven, probably more so than any crust band of that era. During the introduction of the song, the bass is rather clear, very Monolith-like and then, when the guitars kick in, it turns into a lava-like, distorted monster with a terrific steamrolling groove. Undisputedly this bass sound is one of the band's clear trademarks which is unusual for a crust band.

 

 

The second song, "Thanksgiving day", illustrated another, punkier side of Misery. Typical old-school UK anarchopunk riffs played with the doomsday Misery vibe. Like a crustier version of '84 Antisect and Icons of Filth. On that level, the band has often reminded me of their London contemporaries Coitus who also added a dirty and groovy punky vibe to the classic heavy Antisect sound and one could advance that Misery did the same with the Amebix/Axegrinder sound. Does that make sense? The Minneapolis bunch love classic punk music and it shows, the last song of the Ep, the faster "Dragged off to war" is reminiscent of GBH and Broken Bones drinking malt liquor around a bonfire in a scrapyard. I always tend to associate Misery's vibe with an urban and desolate industrial atmosphere, atavistic anger or derelict factories while a band like Amebix evokes in me a bleak moor, a strong land connection and the potentiality of praying to pagan gods in the nude, probably not something you can do in Minneapolis, although I could be wrong. The third song of Children of War, "Morbid reality", is not dissimilar to "Children of war" in terms of songwriting, classic old-school metallic crust with death-metal-ish vocals, a shitload of mosh power and something of a Prophecy of Doom touch. The lads in Misery liberally shared vocal duties which brought some variety to their already diverse bag of crust tricks and offered different possibilities in terms of vocal textures. The singers complement each other perfectly and have recognizable voices and prosody - gruff, hoarse and pissed lower-pitched shouts answering to snottier, punker in-your-face vocals, not unlike GBH and Concrete Sox at times. This element, I think, has significantly contributed to the identity of the band throughout time and along with the distinctive guitar plays and massive bass sound. As for the cover, it is an iconic piece of crust history, a little confusing at first but I like the many details and the profusion. 

Misery is possibly the one crust band I wish I saw live but never did. Don't get me wrong, I wish I had been at the Mermaid in the mid/late 80's obviously, but Misery were still very much active when I first fell for them in the early 00's so the prospect of seeing them one day was not completely unreasonable and even plausible (I was blissfully unaware of the logistics of touring at the time so that, in my youthful mind, any active band was likely to play in Paris at some point. Little did I know that most bands actually avoided playing in my hometown but that is a whining session I shall develop another time). Of course, Misery never toured Europe in my punktime and  never will, something I have done my best to be as placid as possible about for a decade. So posting a live Ep sounded like the thing to do to exorcize some of the pain, especially since Misery, I have been told, were a live powerhouse. Not exactly surprising given the unique sound they managed to create in the studio but it is still comforting, and in this case also painful, to know that a favourite band of yours which you never got to sing along to while properly wankered in a live environment was a great live band. Your Leaders were Lying was recorded during a gig in New York City in 1993 and released the same year on Squat or Rot, a label close to the local squatters' movement run by Ralphie Boy from Jesus Chrust and Disassociate. 

There are three songs on this wonderful Ep, two classic Misery numbers on the first side, "Filth of mankind" and "Fear to change", that appear respectively on the 1992 split Lp with SDS and the 1994 Who's the Fool Lp. Brilliant songs epitomizing the sheer power of Misery. The band is tight, the sound is surprisingly good and balanced for a live recording. Heavy, rocking, dark polyphonic metallic crust and the perfect soundtrack to the apocalypse. At the time of this recording Misery were possibly the best band around doing this type of crust so that there is little point using points of comparison. Misery just sounded like Misery and sounding like oneself is quite an achievement (metaphysical shit for you). These two songs are energetic and rather fast ones with "Fear to change" showing that the band could pull the fast and furious brand of crust, with ease. The other side includes an Amebix cover, "Nobody's driving", which they pull brilliantly, with the skillful drummer even bringing some variations of his own. Needless to say that, Amebix being the band's primary influence, covering an anthem from Monolith must have been an easy enough decision to make. Misery seemed to have been a band that loved playing covers as, beside "Nobody's driving", they did Sacrilege's "Life line", Icons of Filth's "Fucked up state" (the best one of the lot according to me), New Model Army's "The hunt" and Amebix again with "ICBM". The band was apparently made up of cheeky bastards prone to terrorize innocent law-abiding citizens. There is a copy of a letter from angry neighbours living close to what I assume is "the Misery house" complaining about the noise, the raucous partying, the obscene behaviours and language although they claimed to have nothing against people "generally maintaining an appearance and lifestyle different from others". Punx will be punx. Misery was not insensitive to childish, puerile, scatological jokes either as the cover is basically a picture from the loos' venue while the backcover of the Ep shows a bare arse with the caption "Nobody's wiping". I did find it funny which says a lot I suppose.

 

The third Ep we are going to talk about today is the split with Assrash, another Minneapolis band with a common fondness for arse-related topics. This Ep was a picture disc, a format I have never cared for and I don't think I own more than ten records of this kind (I am similarly completely indifferent to coloured vinyl, my Discharge vision only seeing things in black and white). However, this one is pretty funny. This Ep might be one of the punkest-looking records I own - and I still have my old Casualties collection so that's saying something. A picture of the lads getting heavily pissed on one side, and one with them standing in line back to the camera with their hands against a brickwall as if about to being searched by the police. Typical punk posing I have to say but the so-called US streetpunk wave was emerging back then so perhaps the "pissed, punk and proud on the street" was in the air. In any case, while I would not listen to a band whose sole quality is their fashion statement, Misery waving the punker-than-you flag is fine with me. And well, in the light of the current alienating fashion worship and popularity contest on Instagram, the pictures on the split look almost tame in 2021. I am not sure when the songs were recorded exactly but the split was released in 1996 so I am guessing in 1995, perhaps during the same recording session as the Next Time Ep. "Bitter end" and "12 years of hell" see the band still in their unabated old-school crust mode, with maybe a less prevalent Amebix/Axegrinder influence. "Bitter end" has that classic guitar play and bass groove as usual and the songwriting reminds me of a crustier Celtic Frost, not unlike Coitus again (now that I think of it a Misery/Coitus split would have been magnificent and an endless source of top puns, just think about it) while "12 years of hell" is a quality fast and thrashing crust punk numbers. Both songs have that "90's Misery sound" but it was to be the last record to really display Misery at their crustiest. The following record, the split Lp with Extinction of Mankind from 2001, saw the band incorporating other, new influences into their crust recipe to great effect (their songs on this Lp are among the very best they ever wrote). On the other side of this 1996 split, Assrash delivered their typical brand of raucous, obnoxious, two fingers in the air punk-rock with singalongs, not unlike late 80's Chaos UK, The Restarts or Suicidal Supermarket Trolleys. Energetic and snotty, the three songs work pretty well on the Ep and should get you properly prepared for a pogo session or a night out on the piss. The Ep was released on Clean Plate Records, the label run by Will from Orchid, and it is without a doubt the punkest record he ever put out. 

 

That's enough Misery for today. This band deserve all the praises in the world for keeping the old-school crust sound alive and making it evolve for such a long time. Our shorter attention span, the availability of everything everywhere and our modern consumption of punk music makes us addicted to a constant flow of new bands and records often using marketing techniques and vocabulary to sell their product and turn a six-month old band into hardcore pioneers so that bands like Misery are less likely to keep running and flourish in our current context. Love and support your older crust bands.

 

 Booze Life and MISERY

 

Ten Steps to Make Your Life CRUSTIER Starting Today (step 10): Deviated Instinct "Re-Opening Old Wounds" Lp, 1993

This is the last part of Terminal Sound Nuisance's UK crust series and I suppose it will be a very suitable final chapter since the mere uttering of Deviated Instinct irrevocably makes life (and I mean any form of life) much crustier. It is just a scientific fact, trust me on this one. Although the two recordings included on Re-Opening Old Wounds are anterior to the other segments making up this sharp, urban and edgy guide to the appropriate modern crust lifestyle, I decided to tackle this Lp last since it is the only retrospective compilation of the series. I had this idea that listening to the genre's originators Deviated Instinct in the last position could cast a meaningful light on the barrage of crust music you have been served so far, as if it could somehow be used as an ontological tool to isolate and extract the very essence of crust, the mythical source of energy that, according to barely legible fanzine scripture from the mid-80's, could confer to any average punk incredible moshing powers as well as complete mastery of the arcane arts of crust pants making. Myth or reality? Does crust really have an essence? Is it a common sonic and structural template shared by the bands or more of a tension and a vibe allowing for some gruff creative width, a way of playing and writing? Or is it just an unhealthy obsession with crudely approximative patches, filthy haircuts and sleeveless jackets, like mummy used to scold?

Of course, I have already written about DI on several occasions (in case you have not noticed, the quest for crust is one of Grail-like proportions on this blog). They have become a fairly well-documented band during the past decade, with a crucial cd reissue of their Peaceville recordings in 2006 and a delicious chapter in 2009's Trapped in a Scene, which, combined with the renewed interest prompted by the band's top notch reformation, might make a thorough archeologist survey of their early days a little redundant in 2020. This was not always the case however and when my obsession for crust kicked in in the early 00's, little information was available about DI. The band was seldom referred to and yet, when they were, they were always presented as "crust legends", which was confusing for two main reasons: first, I did not understand how a "legend" could not have some sort of discography available for young punks with a thirst for knowledge like myself and, second, I had no idea that crust had its own lore and legends and it instantly conveyed an aura of epic mystery to the genre while reinforcing its legitimacy in the process. The chase was on indeed.

Like many of my generation, the original metallic crust wave of the mid/late 80's seriously got my attention upon the release of Hellshock's Only the Dead Know the End of the War in 2003, a work described as "PDX stenchcore" (the nod was lost on me at first) and often compared to British bands like Sacrilege, Hellbastard, Bolt Thrower or indeed Deviated Instinct, bands I had never heard of. In retrospect, I realise that such parallels, without looking at their accuracy, were mostly drawn in order to create an old-school crust halo around Hellshock and locate their style into that early Peaceville tradition, renamed "stenchcore" for the additional winking tribute. I was already heavily getting into UK crust when this album came out and was desperately searching for all the founding bands of the genre - bands that sadly no one seemed to really know or even care about at all in my hometown - so that the release of the Hellshock album felt like a sign of the punk gods notifying me that, if the way of crust can be a long and arduous, my devotion to the black(ish) arts shall be rewarded. Whereas I easily obtained the first two Bolt Thrower albums on cd, managed to order Hellbastard's In Grind We Crust cd from Acid Stings and somehow managed to procure an homemade tape copy of Sacrilege's Behind the Realms of Madness (courtesy of Catchphraze Records), recordings that proved to be life-changing kicks up the arse, DI's music however tragically remained out of reach. This minor existential setback did not keep me from getting a magnificent vintage DI patch (the splendid visual with the indigenous face and the gun from the Hiatus compilation Lp if you must know) from an old punk who used to distribute Squat or Rot and Tribal War records in Paris and still had a stash of crust patches made in NY in the early 90's that were particularly unfashionable ten years later. It was the first and only time I ever wore a patch from a band I had actually never heard, a shameful, despicable act usually associated with the lowest cast of the punk scene, the incurable inveterate posers, and I am well aware that such a confession might threaten my established reputation but I had to come clean.

Eventually, after months of begging pathetically, a friend of mine with a computer and a good internet connection downloaded Rock'n'Roll Conformity and Guttural Breath and burnt them on a cd. Almost 18 months after reading about DI in the Hellshock review, I finally got to listen to them. Had I been born 15 years after, I would just have had to type "Deviated Instinct" in the youtube search bar and the quest would have ended in a couple of seconds. Still, it would have been a shame to miss on the frustration, the anticipation and the seemingly endless wait that the quest for DI implied, a band that I loved and revered before even knowing and whose music I had to create and play in my head from the few pieces of intel I had in my possession. In the end, when I finally played the cd, it sounded strangely familiar. Perhaps as much as in their music itself, you could argue that DI's legacy lies in their aesthetics. The striking artworks of the band's records (drawn by guitar hero Mid) have informed the visual identity of crust for years and, to this day, they remain the ultimate visual self-representation and reference point of the crust aesthetics. It is of course no coincidence that iconic bands of the 00's metal crust revival like Hellshock, Nuclear Death Terror or Stormcrow had record covers expertly drawn by Mid in the purest late 80's style (on demand, I suppose), so that the referentiality to the genre's foundations is as much about the dirty vibe, tones and the songwriting than it is about the visuals and the organic apocalyptic visions from the most talented originator of the crust aesthetics. Undeniably the appeal of DI (and of other classic crust bands) was both sonic and visual and I would venture that the stenchcore revivalists perfectly understood the necessity to combine both referential dimensions in order to identify totally with the first wave (an ontological creative move that was born with the 90's d-beat wave). Another crucial, if more prosaic, part of the DI testament has to do about their personal look and how they epitomised the crust punk fashion. To this very day, their cider-fueled, soap-dodging, thrash-loving Mad Max rejects impersonations remain potent emblems of the prelapsarian Eden of the crust punk lifestyle and, not unlike the nirvana of stenchcore, I like to think the pursuit of this noble goal is what really matters.

Re-Opening Old Wounds was released in 1993 on Desperate Attempt Records, a label based in Louisville responsible for some wicked records during its eight-year existence by the likes of Apocalypse, Chaos UK, Hiatus or Disrupt. I remember reading that Old Wounds was very much an initiative from DI's singer Leggo, as he had already worked with the label for the release of Filthkick's Hand Crushed Heart Ep in 1991, which presumably accounted for the inclusion of two uncredited Acrasy songs (a superb metal crust band Leggo sang for in 1990 while living in Brum) on the cd version and, unfortunately, without the involvement of Mid, for a rather ugly cover that did not include any original artwork or represent what the band was about at the time of the recordings (in fact, I would argue that the absence of any piece of Mid's art makes makes Old Wounds a record containing DI songs but not a proper DI record if you know what I mean). However, this Lp is still the only way to listen to the songs off the Terminal Filth Stenchcore demo (minus "Distance", which was recorded before anyway, and the joke song "Clean core killer"), originally recorded on October, 21st, 1986. It was the band's second demo and the first one to really showcase the filthy metallic influences that were massively creeping in the UK punk scene and that DI would be known for. I first came across Terminal Filth Stenchcore through a cdr I ordered from Nations on Fire sometime in the mid 00's and it was, as they say, love at first riff. In Trapped in a Scene, Mid expressed disbelief at the popularity the demo still enjoyed and at the undisputed cult status the new generations religiously conferred to it. To some extent, I understand his amazement. Indeed, if you play Terminal Filth Stenchcore to someone used to the clean productions and expert musicianships so common in extreme metal and hardcore nowadays (or even crust really), he or she will express shock and a very different kind of disbelief at the punk as fuck sloppiness, amateurishness and uncontrolled snotty aggression of the recording. This is filthy metallic PUNK. I would hypothesise that a fondness for the fastest and most intense anarcho bands of the early 80's is required to really get the demo, bands like Antisect, Legion of Parasites, Exit-Stance, but also Chaos UK or Disorder, but with the addition of a nasty thrash metal edge played with a youthful punk energy. I can listen to those songs every day and never get tired of them (I tell this from experience). Even though the production is super raw, the songs retain the catchiness of snotty punk and are all memorable thanks to, in spite of obvious technical limits, a rather ambitious variety of song structures, proper buildups, a sense of narration, two different vocal tones that perfectly complement one another and manage to sound pissed, savage and unpredictable. There are too many highlights for me to list but the melancholy anarcho introduction to "Birthright to subservience", the inclusion of actual religious chant in the primitive tribal crust "Possession prayer", the epic progression of the anthemic "Warmachine" or the crunchy moshing groove of "Cancer spreading" easily come to mind. The perfect colliding ground of filthy anarchopunk and cavemen metal.

The remaining four songs on Old Wounds were recorded on July, 15th, 1987, as part of the so-called Return of Frost third demo (it was never actually entitled that way though), a recording that had seven songs, all of which ended up on compilations. I suppose the whole recording could not fit on the Lp because of the running time but we do have the classic "Stormcrow" from the Consolidation split Ep with fellow Norwich bands Revulsion and Rhetoric, "Return of frost" from the 1984 The Third compilation 2xLp, "Master of all" from the Attack is Now Suicide compilation Lp and "Mechanical extinction" from the Airstrip One compilation Lp (missing are an early, and possibly superior, version of "Rock'n'roll conformity" and "House of cards"). By that time, the band had been joined by Snappa and Sean (on the bass and the drums respectively) and had improved musically. DI enjoyed a thicker, crunchier production this time with an energetic roundness and an organic vibe fitting the songs perfectly. The sense of narration was still present in the songwriting ("Stormcrow", for instance, is a two-minute masterclass in genuinely epic crust) and the structures reflected an intent to create songs that, of course, delivered the filthy crusty metallic punk goods, but also told proper stories and strove to capture the listener's attention through catchy hooks, be it a guitar lead, a spoken word moment, a change of riff or a gruff cavemen chorus. DI's music was still crustier than your favourite festival socks but below the growls, the thrashing riffs and the hardcore aggression, there was always this drive to write good punk songs that you can actually remember and shout along to. By 1987, DI had notably incorporated a fast hardcore thrash influence (furious Italian hardcore immediately comes to mind) to their rocking and raw Antisect-meets-Frost-and-Venom-at-a-punk-piss-up formula. Mid's guitar has a heavy, warm, dirty, organic tone that I am massive sucker for and instinctively associate with the crust sound (especially the bends'), while Leggo sounds like an entranced and vengeful rabid fox looking for a brawl. These four songs are absolute scorchers, defining, genre-making moments in the crust mythology, exemplifying how one can successfully blend rocking metal and fast hardcore without sounding like a jersey-wearing, constipated New Yorker.

Re-Opening Old Wounds, in spite of the excellence of the canonical source material, still feels like a missed opportunity. There is no insert and therefore no lyrics, which is a shame given the clever nature of DI's lyrical content and use of dark and tortured metaphors, and obviously no trace of the original visuals. Just imagine a reissue with a booklet including the visuals from Terminal Filth Stenchcore and from all the compilations that hosted tracks from the 1987 recording session. There was a plan for Agipunk to reissue properly Terminal Filth Stenchcore on vinyl (like they did for Hellbastard's Ripper Crust) but I suppose it fell through. Not many demo recordings can claim to have birthed an actual subgenre and, although the relevance of the term "stenchcore" can be discussed and although bands conceptualising and identifying with the genre only really crystallised in the 00's, there are still today bands claiming to play stenchcore, bands that have developed specific sonic templates that are part of the crust punk world but whose take on crust is more referential, making stenchcore a real subgenre in an analytical context. In spite of their status as "forefathers of crust", DI's actual music was, for a long time, a diffuse influence on subsequent crust bands (perhaps because of the different phases in the band's history, reflecting diverse shades of crust, making them harder to mimic), while their aesthetic stance (the stunning dark visuals and the crust fashion show) and creative posture (filthy punk loves filthy metal) were undeniably more substantial. However recent bands like Cancer Spreading, Zygome, Instinct of Survival, Scene Death Terror or Asocial Terror Fabrication started to openly referred to DI through covers, respectful nods or loving plagiarisms, which I must say is very pleasing to the ear. And did I mention that DI are, by far, the best reformed crust band?

This will make life crustier indeed.

Re-Opening Old Crust Wounds

             

Ten Steps to Make Your Life CRUSTIER Starting Today (step 7): Doom "The Greatest Invention" cd, 1993

Doom is to the common crusty what complaining is to a French person: both an essential part of the identity and a relevant lifestyle, without which life on Earth would just not be quite the same. 

Since introducing such a widely known, iconic band could be deemed as patronising and needlessly superfluous - if not actually offensive - I shall take care not to condescend to my proud educated readers and therefore won't write anything about the band's conception, a birth that has been well documented anyway and does not require my customary written gesticulations. Everyone knows Doom, at least superficially, and judging from the vast amount of patches, shirts and painted logos one can detect at any summer crust gathering, d-beat gig or Lady Gaga video, it is quite obvious that Doom is a popular band, respected by their peers for their loyalty to the DIY punk scene ("In it for life" as opposed to "In it for cash" if you know what I mean), for their political stands and for their genre-defining sound that really has not changed that much throughout the years, thus emphasising their unshakeable faith in the validity of Swedish-flavoured cavemen crust punk. Not bad for a band that just wanted to be Discard and Crudity. 

Doom's '88/'89 era (referred to in most self-important punk circles as "the Peaceville era") is often what most people, guided by the suspect belief that a band's "early stuff" is always the best, will know about them - unless you are actual fan of the band of course. In spite of an impressive discography, and depressingly enough, it seems that too many of us remained stuck at the absolute classic Police Bastard Ep, or even just at the song "Police bastard", quite possibly the most covered - and butchered - crust song in history. If you are playing in a crust band and you have never tried to cover "Police bastard" or "Relief" then you should really start to ask yourself the right questions. It goes without saying that a comprehensive knowledge of the Doom catalog in relation with their lineup changes is paramount to the establishment of your crust credibility and any faux pas could have devastating consequences to your reputation and get you banned from respectable masonic crust circles. Do you want to end up hanging out with that shirtless drunk guy at the front constantly shouting "P...po...police...bastaaaaaaard"? Of course you don't, and in order to join the club of Real Doom Fans, beside a symbolical yearly fee, a critical analysis of some of the band's most interesting works is necessary and this is exactly what I want to provide here for your personal enlightenment: my personal views on what is probably Doom's least popular album (in fact, even the band dislike it), The Greatest Invention. 

Recorded in June, 1992, and released on cd and vinyl on Discipline (a hardcore-oriented sublabel of Vinyl Japan) in 1993, The Greatest Invention was the last recording of the original Doom lineup with Bri, Stick, Pete and Jon. The early 90's were a strange period for the band. In 1989, guitar player Bri had left the band, leaving Doom working as a three-piece until 1990 with Jon singing and playing the guitar. At that time, the band tried to include fresh elements to their cavemen scandicore recipe with the addition of slow-paced, heavy and rocking grungy moments with a bit of a psychedelic vibe. The two songs from the band's fourth demo recorded in those months, "Confusion remains" and "Alienation", were dissimilar to anything Doom had done or would subsequently do. Even though listening to a six minute long Doom song is a rather otherworldly experience, I personally would not say they are bad Doom songs as you still get their typical fast d-beat hardcore moments while the heavy slow moments do confer an oppressive atmosphere. The songs would have required some polishing in terms of songwriting but the idea of blending direct crust with heavy psychedelic rock was anything but poor as bands like Bad Influence, Dazd or Iowaska would eventually demonstrate. What if Doom had kept experimenting with this new formula? Would they have become a proper space crust unit? If you come from a parallel universe where this happened, please feel free to comment below.

In 1992, the band got offered a tour in Japan which prompted the four original members to reform and resurrect Doom for the occasion (the trip was immortalised in the Live in Japan Ep on Ecocentric Records). Considering that Doom have always been a tremendous influence for the Japanese crust scene (from Macrofarge, to Abraham Cross or Reality Crisis), such an endeavour made sense and I am convinced that the tour further strengthened the cult of Doom there, so much so that, almost 30 years later, more than a few Japanese bands still aim poetically and gutturally at sounding like early Doom. Back from their trip, the band recorded the Greatest Invention, a mini Lp which was to be the definitive swan song of the original lineup. The personal (and probably creative) tensions running through the band at that time were important and pervasive and you can just sense that The Greatest Invention was not recorded in a serene context. It is a very dark and edgy album. Of course, Doom's earlier material had a very angry and pissed edge too but, by 1992, they sounded like a desperate band about to self-destruct in an explosion of mean, vicious and hopeless hardcore music. The Greatest Invention is unlike any other Doom records. Not because of the admittedly poor production, but partly because of a substantial change in the songwriting and primarily because it sounds almost nihilistic. 

Although The Greatest Invention has its fair share of classic Doom numbers ("Trash breeds trash" being a genuine hit), it is undeniably the band's most versatile work. Thanks to added effects (like the flanger on the ace "Dig your grave" for instance) and textures on the guitar, the music is openly dissonant and eerie at times, with a lot of feedback and fuzzy distortion altering the mood of the original Doom formula. The more noticeable change lies in the presence of slow-paced, heavy psychedelic crusty rock songs, with the Saw Throat-on-shrooms "Drop out", and especially the nine minute long (!) "My pornography", an oppressive Godflesh-y industrial crust number that sounds about as joyful as the grinding noise of a sinking ship. It is obvious that Doom were not only trying new things musically but also craving to modify the vibe of old, to apply a new varnish to it. You could argue that the nine songs making up The Greatest Invention have a disparate feel to them, that for a Doom album - whose template is officially based on the repetition of gruff scandi-influenced cavecrust numbers with a couple of groovy mid-paced ones thrown in for good measure - it is too diverse and not straight-forward enough. While I agree that the album lacks unity and cohesion (more songs and a proper Lp format instead of a mini would have helped in that regard), the angry tension and raging heaviness permeating the work, whatever the songs' pace, make The Greatest Invention one of my favourite Doom recordings. Just listen to the new version of "Same mind" (only included on the cd version for some reason) and how tormented and pissed it sounds, to the filthy old-school crust vibe of "Dig your grave", to the Cimex nods in the pummeling "Worthless nothing", to the heavy punk cover of the Dead Wretched's anthem "No justice" pointing to Doom's local punk roots beside being one of the band's best covers. In spite of the thin production, all the songs are actually memorable and punishing in their own way and on the whole it remains an incandescent work and an apt farewell for that incarnation of Doom. 

Doom would keep going with a different lineup throughout the 90's but never really experimented as much as on The Greatest Invention, which is also paradoxically their shortest album to date. I tend to see Jon's subsequent band, the magnificent Police Bastard, where he played the guitar and sang, as building on certain ideas touched upon in Doom's 1992 Lp, and, albeit to a slightly lesser extent, the same could be said about Bugeyed, Bri's heavy noise rock project with members of Pleasant Valley Children, so I suppose the desire to write something different had to be expressed anyway. 

The cover is quite striking (but Doom's covers usually are) and decidedly dark with a man being shot in the head and an endless river of weapons (bombs, guns, knives, you name it) flowing out of the bullet hole. Perhaps the name "Doom" (for the first time with the new font they would keep using later on) was never as ominous and apt as on The Greatest Invention. The doom of Doom indeed.   

The Crustiest Invention   

Sonatas in D Major (part 4): Dispense "Nothing but the Truth" Ep, 1993

"When will it stop? When will it stop?" yells the irate punk as the chorus of the eponymous song "When will it stop" opening Dispense's Nothing but the Truth 1993 Ep. This ferocious-sounding bit is quite possibly the record's most remarkable moment and whenever a gentle soul reminds me of Dispense - which unsurprisingly does not happen very often to tell you the truth - I can hear with clarity the phrase "When ill it stop? When will it stop?", always repeated twice, just like in the song, resounding in my head. The doc tells me it is one of the many symptoms of a medical condition commonly found in persons who have been exposed to high levels of D for an extended period of time. It is a bit like being exposed to radioactivity, but with d-beat instead. It is by and large not lethal - only two casualties have ever been reported - but after effects can include irritability, antisocial behaviours, questionable clothing choices and an aggravated tendency to play a discharge-y beat with your fingers on any surface that is plane enough. So you can basically live a long, if unfulfilling, life with it. Long exposures to d-beat at a very young age have also been rumoured to prolong virginity but studies have been inconclusive so it remains mere surmise. Still, I am grateful I got into Crass before Discharge.

What I also really enjoy about that "When will it stop? When will it stop?" chorus is that you can read it retroactively. Of course, the song is about Discharge wars, brutal fictional conflicts where innocent men, women and children (in that order, always) scream in agony on the battlefields of the atrocities of waarrgh. Unfortunately they are not that fictional and war is, of course, still horrendous. When you were a 90's Dis-band, it was dictated by law that at least 50% of all your songs had to be about waarrgh. In the rare cases of non-compliance that have been documented, bands were immediately deprived of the Dis prefix and shamed in fanzines, usually with accusations of selling out (which was pretty much the worse possible insult to spit out at a punk band). Those were of course the good old days when bands still had some integrity to show for themselves... But that's not really the point, the reason why I find the chorus particularly congenial is that, beside the condemnation of armed conflicts that slaughter and maim, you could also read it a comment on the Dis phenomenon. Of course, Dispense did not mean it that way but I cannot help thinking about the different d-beat trends that have spouted since the early 90's and, in this light, the only reasonable, sound answer to "When will it stop? When will it stop?" (always twice) is "Well, it ain't gonna". Whether you are into Dis bands or not is completely beside the point: there will always be Discharge imitators on a scale that is growing more and more global. And, as it causes me to contemplate on the D, that's exactly why I find the chorus so stimulating. Tragically, this answer is also relevant when applied to wars which is much less amusing.

As for Dispense, they were from Nyköping, Sweden, and must have formed around 1991 since their first demo - which I have lamentably never heard - was recorded in May, 1992. As far as I understand, Dispense was the members' first band and you could say that their rather short-lived career was not unlike Disfear's. The two bands were from the same town, had their first Ep on the same local label (No Records), shared a Dis prefix and were progressively tending toward a more heightened likeness to Discharge (especially for Disfear). I cannot be sure, but I bet that the 1992 Dispense demo is closer to traditional 80's Swedish hardcore than to total Discharge worship. The fact that the lyrics were originally written in Swedish points in that direction and, like Disfear, the shift to the English language also signified more sonic closeness to Discharge and one could even advance that the prevalence of English in 90's Discharge-loving punk bands was not just a characteristic feature of the first d-beat wave but a central component in the birth of the genre (Spanish d-beat would actually challenge this linguistic hegemony to great success). 

Dispense are often considered as an average Swedish band, which is unfair but also makes sense since there were a lot of bands going for a similar style (d-beat, crust, scandicore) at the time in Sweden and I guess we are all inclined to remember the cream of the crop, the top shelf stuff (Disfear, Meanwhile or Warcollapse) and discard (pun) the rest as "run-of-the-mill" or "middle-of-the-road", which does sound harsh, but then you have to admit that, even in retrospect, it looks like a d-beat epidemic was sweeping across the country, overrun by punx in dire need to play Discharge riffs. What a cracking time it must have been. Seriously. I suppose that the name "Dispense" did not exactly help either. It is not terrible or even embarrassing, I mean, twenty years after the fact, you can still look your betrothed in the eye and confess that you used to play in band called "Dispense" without too much fuss, and you could even say that it is objectively a better name than Dischange or Disfear and certainly nowhere near as bad as Dissober or Disfornicate (just try to admit this one out to your betrothed). It still is a pretty pedestrian 90's Dis moniker but, truth be told, recent years have shown (as if proofs were needed of modern punk rock's deliquescing creativity) that you can far worse than that. No names will be given. 

Classic D-words

Despite the Dis, Dispense did not exactly play d-beat like their neighbours Disfear on Brutal Sight of War or Dischange/Meanwhile on any given day. On Nothing but the Truth, they can be described as a punishing and heavy Swedish hardcore band, with a strong Discharge influence, inherent in the genre anyway (it feels almost redundant to point it out), but one that is not completely behind the steering wheel. I am reminded of a more robust version of Asocial, No Security or even Totalitär (in the raspy vocals especially). Like many Swedish hardcore/crust bands at the time, Dispense were produced by a bloke who specialized in recording extreme metal band so that the outcome sounds relentlessly punishing (are the drums almost too loud?). I think the songs are catchy enough in their conception for the genre, the musicianship is there, the sound is excellent, the riffs effective, the solos tasteful and there is no denying the raw, brusque power of the Ep. It sounds of course quite predictable but the distinct 90's textures and the delightfully dischargesque "When will it stop" remains an absolute hit in my book with prime singalong galore one the chorus. Clearly not a bad record in spite of a rather gruesome cover typical of the fashion of the day. My version of the Ep was released on No Records in 1993 (it was to be the third and last production of the label) but it was cojointly reissued in 1998 by Rødel and Finn Records just like the first Disfear Ep. Following Nothing but the Truth, Dispense did a mini cd for Really Fast Records entitled In the Cold Night, another fine record that saw the band at its d-beat-est with a more pronounced Discharge love. Dispense also had two songs included on the Really Fast Vol. 8 compilation Lp from 1993 (same session as Nothing but the Truth with one of them also on the Ep) alongside Randy and Refused (for real) and they also contributed three songs to the legendary Distortion to Hell '94 cd compilation, released on Distortion Records, where they rubbed shoulders with delicate acts such as Warcollapse, Asocial, Sauna, The Perukers, Driller Killer, 3-Way Cum or Bombraid. Those last three songs were the last recordings of Dispense. 

Is it the end of the story? Not really. Both Dispense's bass and guitar player would go on to form Victims (the former on vocals and the latter on the six stringed instrument) while the drummer would join Skitsystem. Not bad, right?   

  

When will it stop?

Sonatas in D Major (part 2): The Perukers "GBG 1992" Ep, 1993

First, let's talk a bit about etiquette. 

In a genre that relies so much on references and on dischargian knowledge to be really effective - if not enjoyable at all - it makes sense that the practice of covering either Discharge or a band influenced by Discharge is a critical one. And of course, doing it right is a complex task that has to be taken seriously. Picking too obvious a song to cover (like "Hear nothing see nothing say nothing" or "Why" or "Warmachine" or "Police bastard" for instance) does not come recommended. Older bands have already done it and better. The only situation where I can see it working would be if you are not a d-beat band and the choice of covering a Discharge song is a little unexpected. In this case, it does not really matter what song you chose. So unless you are under these specific circumstances, I would not advise picking a dis anthem that is too famous. Indeed, choosing a song that is deemed a minor classic by the-cool-kids-who-know-their-shit (you know the ones, they are usually standing at the back, arms crossed, taking mental notes about the band and examining if it plays the right kind of punk music, and they are usually not actual kids) will make you and your band look well-read and aware of the protocol and you should be able to charge a bit more for your demo (if it is on tape, a cdr will be heavily frowned upon). However, do not select too obscure a song. Covering a song that no one knows makes people feel uncomfortable and insecure about their self worth and punk knowledge and will make you look pretentious, but this time not in a good way (and it will probably indicate that you first heard it on youtube, which is unacceptable). Basically, go for Disarm instead of Total Armsvett. Another, more subtle and clever way, to pay tribute to the good d-stuff is to re-use riffs or arrangements or lyrics or visuals from classic discharge-y hardcore bands in order to notify the cool kids that you are one of them without having to literally cover a song. Again, be careful, if the nods are too easily perceived, it can work against you and make you look like you are trying too hard to look cool (which is the exact opposite of good taste). Unless the plainness is ironic and self-conscious which makes the calculated heavy nods primarily about the process of referentiality and highlight your awareness of the intertextual game. It's an endlessly tough business.

Of course, you can also choose to play it like The Perukers, not give a single fuck and record three obvious covers of Discharge, Shitlickers and The Varukers in three hours. It is probably much funnier as well.

Were The Perukers an actual band? Well, it really depends on your definition of what a punk is or should be. Since they only played one live gig ever and recorded only twice in eight years, I think we can safely say that The Perukers were more akin to an entertaining, enjoyable side project for all the members involved (who were all part of more serious and committed bands), basically something to do when they had time to kill in the studio and were craving to play simple and brutal hardcore punk. I am not completely sure as to who did what exactly in the band but it was made up of Chris, Rigo and Robert from Driller Killer - the latter playing in Anti-Cimex at the time as well - and John from Black Uniforms (apparently Cliff was also involved but his role is a bit unclear as far as this Ep is concerned). With such a lineage, one is entitled to expect beefy, hard-hitting and heavy hardcore music from experienced Swedes and of course one is not disappointed.

The name kinda sucks I suppose. Captain Obvious informed me that it is a massive nod toward The Varukers so let's stick with that. I guess you could say that the name "varukers" kinda sucks too. After all, it is a spelling alteration of "verrucas" and while I am sure it looked like a very appealing idea to their teenage selves, at the end of the day it still refers to plantar warts, we just don't think about it because The Varukers are a classic band. So The Perukers means, in Swedish, "the wigs". Pretty silly I guess, but then it might have been an inside joke between them because judging from band pictures of Driller Killer or Black Uniforms they all had really great hair at the time (in a cheesy metal way) so perhaps people wondered if they were wearing wigs or something. I know I am wondering and it was 30 years ago. But anyway, as mentioned there are three covers on GBG 1992 from The Varukers ("Protest and survive", which was the original spelling of the song on the self-titled 1981 Ep), Discharge ("Protest & survive") and Shitlickers ("Spräckta snuttskallar"). There are many enormous D-Easter eggs on the Ep, from the title referring to Shitlickers' GBG 1982, to the "thanks to no fucker!" on the backcover (if you don't know where that comes from, you must leave your Card Membership on my desk tomorrow by 9:00 am, sorry not sorry), the cover itself depicting two punx wearing studded jackets looking at a nuclear explosion that is the same as that of Mob 47's "Nuclear attack" design, the use of the Varukers font or the picture of a Shitlickers shirt on the label of the side B. The thing is ripe with references, some are grotesquely clear, others a little more subtle, but in the end you can see that the band had a lot of fun doing that and it also shows in the music. Of course it sounds a lot like early Driller Killer being drunk in the studio and still effortlessly nailing four songs before heading back to the pub. The production is quite clear for the genre (it was recorded at the metal-oriented Fredman Studio), the guitar sounds great and thrashes its way through these classic hardcore anthems, everything is highly energetic and even the sloppier parts in the vocals do not diminish the mean, aggressive intensity that The Perukers managed to unleash (the chorus on "Spräckta snuttskallar" is insanely powerful). Being a big fan of early Driller Killer's scandi hardcore style and considering the first two albums Brutalize and Total Fucking Hate as classic 90's hardcore records, of course I have fun listening to GBG 1992, and that's probably what The Perukers intended to produce, a nasty, punk as fuck tribute to some early greats with a metal punk touch. Even their own composition, "Burn out", sounds like a cover of an 80's hardcore band. 

The fact that this Ep was released on Distortion Records (it was the label's second piece of wax and the sleeve design was done by none other than the label's owner) also motivated its inclusion in the Sonatas in D Major series as the label played a major role in the 90's in the development of Discharge-loving Swedish hardcore and crust. I am too young to have known the glory years of Distortion but I was told about its significance many times by a couple of old-timers and even the briefest look at the discography (Anti-Cimex, Disfear, Wolfpack, Driller Killer, Skitsystem, the reissues of Shitlickers, Mob 47 and Moderat Likvidation, Disfornicate... ok maybe not them) can show how important it has been for a whole generation and a series about d-beat without a record from the Distortion catalogue would have been utterly preposterous (I received death threats for much less). The legend has it that Mats, founder of Distortion records, glued Why to his turntable when it came out because he loved the record so much. I have no idea if this is a true story but it is definitely a very romantic one (though it's kinda impractical) and in the end D-beat is a very romantic subgenre. The Perukers released a second Ep on Distortion in 2001 entitled Disploited with covers from GBH, Doom and The Exploited. Not quite as much fun to get into to be fair but you know what they say about sequels.  

GBG 1992