In 2016, I was left stupified by The Central’s Discovery of a Rat. It’s intriguing blend of saccharine pop and searing mathgrind demanded repeat listens, so I indulged, gorged, binged to the point where it ended up on my 2016 year-end list. (If you haven’t given in a whirl, you…
Welp. You’ve seen it. You’ve debated it. You’ve cried over it. But what’s done is done: Our list of the best albums of the year is behind us, and there is much rejoicing. But what about the albums we loved that didn’t make the cut? For those of you who…
I’ve written and deleted four or five attempts at an introductory paragraph for this edition of Grind My Gears. The stretches I was trying to make happen were ridiculous. Seriously. I went with a vague Pretty Woman metaphor, tried to open with a “religious subtext” shtick, eventually deciding to pack…
Oh boy do we have something hot and nasty for you to start off the week. Cobwebs in your ears from a long weekend looking at the bottom of a bottle? Just pissed that it’s Monday and Bob from HR won’t stop chewing with his mouth open? We’ve got something for you. Coming fresh from their upcoming sophomore release Amputheatre, we’ve got a brand new track from India’s deathgrind destroyers Gutslit. One of my favourite tracks from this release, we present you with “From Ear To Ear,” as always, over the jump.
India is a place I wouldn’t really associate with extreme music. The limited exposure I’ve had with the culture comes primarily from Indian restaurants, vacation stories from friends, or movies. That being said, it feels like a really traditional kind of place. The limited amount of Indian music I’ve heard is immediately identifiable as such, and even the pop music feels like it follows in that convention, there’s a distinct “sound.” So when I caught wind of a split by hardcore bands from Bangalore and Mumbai, I was obviously surprised. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Why wouldn’t there be an underground scene in India? Beyond that, considering how “conventional” and “traditional” it seems to me as some ignorant dude from the states, it makes absolutely perfect sense that there would be some positively savage bands out there stickin’ it to the man.
Summer is nearly wrapped up over here so it’s time to get right back into the miserable weather, miserable conversation and general misery of being in a Northern part of the world. Fuck the tanned people and their day drinking, fuck the sweaty patch on the small of your back, fuck the tourists who stop walking every two seconds on the street. It’s high time for the grey, grim and gruesome to rear it’s resentful head. This weeks entry into Grind My Gears might just be the most obtuse and vehemently bleak thing you’ll hear the rest of this summer. I love that I get to write this next bit. Get Fucked.
Firstly, by the time I actually came across this next entry into the Hall of Grind and decided to write about them, they released two more batches of hot shit, toxic grind. If this wasn’t a sign from the Holy Grindfather then I’m a two-tone ska fiend. Throat Breach are every single bit as unpleasant sounding as their moniker but in just over a year have consistently released music as and when they feel like it. Presents for everyone indeed. Over the course of sixteen releases this Midwest branch of the Terror Squad have found a sound worth killing for. In like, twelve months. How many releases did you put out the last twelve months?
Look at any poster for a good grind show and it usually tells you exactly what you’re getting from the night in question. Often literally telling you exactly who the band is because you can’t read their logo, where they’re from and which particular flask of filth they sip from. Madrid’s Teething don’t have one of those unreadable logos and they’re marked down as simply “HM-2 grindcore”. Doing exactly that, these Spaniards have entered the world of full length grind releases with a record so typically HM-2 that it goes full circle into being fresh again. Pull up a seat and unfuck your earholes in preparation for some violent Spanish storytelling.
OK. I’m challenging myself with this one. Taking twelve minutes to write about a twelve minute debut EP can and will be done. Just watch me, I don’t back down from a struggle, even if it’s with hate filled morons on the Internet who wanna send empty death threats to me. Mate, you’re a cunt and I hope that something heavy lands on your head. Something as heavy as this. Not so much grind today but this definitely gets my gears working. Hard. And it’s Scottish too. Moist.
If I were straight edge I’m sure there would be a lot more “edge” bands in my music library; hardcore is cool and they are plenty of edgecore bands out there that could satiate my thirst, so to speak. If I was a Christian (sike) there’d probably be a couple of holy moly heavy bands in there as metal is rife with bands holding up the horns (sike, again) for the Lord. I am neither of these. I love to drink and possess quite a skill for being able to do quite a lot of it. Why is this pertinent to Grind My Gears this week? Well, Feral Chaos also really like to drink. And they LOVE to play grind, the nasty kind you’d find in the bottom of a can used for sinking cigarette ends in.