Blast Worship: Impulsealer

Where they from?
The Czech Republic. The NHL season starts today — who is your pick to win the Stanley Cup? I’ll admit I haven’t been able to do as much research as in years past as I’ve been busy seeing my favorite bands play their best albums live (thanks, Albert) and puking at Saint Vitus (thanks, Taco Bell). But a quick glance at this hockey magazine I bought yesterday has me feeling high on Vegas, so I’ll take the Golden Knights beating out the Islanders in the final (Potvin sucks).

Why the hype?
It’s kind of becoming a running theme in this column that when it comes to grindcore, Europeans just seem to do it better than their North American counterparts. This is one of the most straight up, fuck-you, ass-kicking, oh-my-god-I-can’t-believe-theyre-not-from-Sweden bands I have heard in a long time. Every blown out HM2 driven note played by this band hits that perfect sweet spot originally discovered by their euro forebearers Nasum, Rotten Sound and The Arson Project. I know it’s kind of dumb to describe grindcore music as “angry” given the genre’s core tenets, but Impulsealer’s music is just so god damn pissed off and relentless, it’s like the first period of that Rangers/Capitals game after Tom Wilson took that cheap shot at Artemi Panerin (another hockey reference!).

Latest Album?
42 out on Psychocontrol Records. The kicker about this band is that they unleash all this sonic fury as only a two-piece! That’s right, it’s just two people! Of course you could never tell due to the massive guitar tone. It’s rather telling that I’m not normally a fan of the needle-y Swedish guitar thing but here I absolutely love it. Oh yeah, and I would be remiss if I didn’t mention some of the absolute badass breakdowns here. Like towards the end of album opener “Man,” holy shit! It’s like getting a right hook from Zdeno Chara (I CAN’T BE STOPPED).