Words by Jimmy Glinster
Well, fuck then! Isn’t this a fucking doozy! This may possibly be my shortest review yet, and possibly one of the shortest albums yet. Clocking in at a solid 23 min or so and containing 10 tracks and a very short, very murderous intro!
The opening and title track Unleash The Rage does exactly that, and holy fucking brutal! Dead In A Hot Tin Shed follows suit and is possibly even more brutal than the opening track. Then we hit the band’s first single, Killed More Cunts Than Covid. If you’ve previously heard this track, you’ll understand just how heavy this band is, and that they probably have killed more cunts than Covid with their brand of extreme grindcore!
Just how many Long Necks would a Dole Cheque buy you? Fucks knows, but they probably tell you in the next track, Longnecks and Dole Cheques. I still can’t tell you though, because I haven’t understood a single world on this album so far. And I mean that in the sincerest possible way.
By this point I’m feeling so fucking brutalised that I’m about to have an aneurysm, but not before 12Gauge Rampage tells me all about Your Fucken Mate. And I still can’t understand a single fucking word, so I have no idea what the cunts gone and done, but by the sounds of it he’s done himself a bit of a mischief and is probably about to breathe in and bleed out, or already did, or something like that. But yeah, Breath In Bleed Out is the aptly titled next track, and I’m pretty sure by now the vocalist was spitting some serious blood on the vocal booth’s spit screen!
Wouldn’t Even Piss On Ya, well I might, but that stories probably not suitable for this publication. You might need pissing on after the fucking fire that this song delivers, and even though a cold shower might be a more hygienic option, maybe wait until after the Blowtorch Torture though because I’m sure that’s not gonna be too nice either. This band really stands up to its name because this album is an absolute fucking rampage of brutality.
Two songs to go, and Body By The Billabong opens with the ongoing ferocity that this album delivers track after track. This is brutality at its most brutal and the final track Mad Dog Morgan doesn’t drop the ball. In actual fact, it compresses it all, and more, into 1 and a half minutes of fury.
Well, that’s enough said for now, and I’m pretty sure I need to clean some blood from my ears because that was a fucking aural assault, a most enjoyable one! Think King Parrot on Viagra and that pretty much sums this one up!