Revolution Calling: from enslavement to Obliterations - IN SEARCH OF SPACE #197

When will you docile motherfuckers realise the only way to achieve your aims is to do what the cunts in power did years ago, and host a violent and bloody revolution, drag the worst of the fuckers out into the streets and use Russian-made handguns smuggled into the country to very suddenly and mercilessly blow their fucking brains out? Call me up on the day of the glorious revolution, I’ll be pushing bankers off the roof and wearing my ritual robes on that special day. Making sure the rest of the fuckers are watching as an example. On all the issues that matter, fairness, equality, feeding folks, basic shit, our system is so perverted it actively rails against its own purpose. Sometimes, to change some minds, you’ve got to drive the business end of a pickaxe through others. America knows what I’m talking about. The average American politician is so crooked he has to sleep on a spiral staircase. Los Angeles’ Obliterations know what I’m talking about, and their latest superb record is testament and hard-rock call-to-arms. Heed it.


As if someone went back in time to the Good Old Days and secretly recorded a hitherto mythical late-night hotel room session between the best bits of the Stooges and golden-era Black Sabbath, and then released it today; Obliterations earn their portentous name with Napalm Death song titles Pay to Live and Can’t Afford to Die, and pull off the same trick of being abrasive in the extreme and still highly engaging. Vocalist Sam James Velde projects anger and listenability in equal measure, while still letting the lyrics be crystal. Fans of Workin’ Man Noise Unit I recommended an age ago should definitely be keeping an eye on this burly lot. For my money the anthemic Sick Feeling is probably the best song, but the entire EP is run through in the time it takes most bands to tune up, and their live shows are more brutal still. You owe it to your ears.
Photo c/o Marc Gabor-Fourcade

Usually this would be a story of back-room barbarity, aesthetic perfection glimpsed through a dirty kitchen window, but they’re actually really big across the pond, and just signed to Southern Lord, who have a proven track record of bringing out the Cure For What Ails Us. Apparently they work fast too, because in less than six months they’ll have dropped two EPs and a full-length. Keep your eyes peeled for these atavistic motherfuckers when the revolution comes. Because it is coming.


Written under duress by Steven.

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