For Those About to Squawk: Cripple Bastards, No/Más,

What’s going on, guys? How do you feel about some grindcore?  That’s what I’m doing this week… if you don’t like it, you can suck my feather.  It’s going to be a challenge to see how many adjectives I can use for “fast.”

So Italian grindcore legends Cripple Bastards are releasing their 89th release, but 5th full-length, on Relapse Records entitled La Fine Crese Da Dentro. So, what’s this about? This is 100% pure muthabeaking grindcore.  Fast, furious riffage gives way to some nasty pecking grooves (sometimes).  This is dope. I mean, it’s mean, it’s brutal, it’s blistering. Cripple Bastards have their own sound and have been at this for 30 years, if they haven’t perfected their craft by now (which they have), they definitely nailed it on this one. Hopefully Relapse can bring this band to a wider audience.  8 Fucking Pecks.

Relative newcomers to the scene, No Más are releasing their first official release, Raiz Del Mal, on Horror Pain Gore Death. I know, I know, I like grindcore… sheesh, give me a break. This is grind, grind as peck as a matter of fact, but that doesn’t mean it’s one dimensional. There are breakdowns, noise bits (ahem) and tempo shifts that keep this thing fresh and interesting. One of the things to note is the vocals here are absolutely bonkers, this guy just sounds like he’s nuts…  He may be. If speedy-ass riffs and disgusting vocals are your jam, then this is your jam. The drummer here, pecking Christ he’s fast, and hits hard. This leads to one brutal-ass package, so peck this shiz out! All in all, this is a great first effort from the band and this is a band to look out for.  8 Fucking Pecks.

Zealot Cult is an Irish band. Zealot Cult are a death metal band (I know I said I’d do all grindcore but…).  Zealot Cult are releasing Spiritual Sickness on Blood Harvest. This is sick. I was not prepared for this.  So think OSDM, but not like caveman OSDM, like some mean-ass semi-tech OSDM. This is more early Pestilence and early Morbid Angel as far as the riffs go. Vocally, this harkens back to the Tardy days. This record smokes, and one of the best elements is the production, which is clean but still has a little filth to it to make this thing have some teeth. 8 Fucking Pecks.

Peace out! Waldo.