
Beats that sound like they are rhythm box jacked from a broken down Wurlizter organ are buried deep in the mix of murky, grumbling guitars plugged into powered by 6 AA batteries amps do their damnedest to rumble like a lawnmower idling in the thunderstorm and squall like Canadian geese being strangled with barbed wire.
Above those noises that may entertain the idea of reaching a mid tempo squirm before topping out and staying at a slug bait slither are dispassionate voice rambles off in a smart ass tone about being the hatred that permeates through small towns, homely siblings, boring jobs (and the jackass bosses that go with them) and the joys of war (or at least the thrill of blasting someone away with a machine gun).
Dark humor and lost weekend booze bender doom chugging that serves as a perfect sound when thinking about getting revenge dealing with day to day dickheads.
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