“I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass,” the sound bite insists near the album’s beginning. Yet, this band seem to huff metallic glue. According to some folks, they embody “flame-throwing no-frills hardcore” and “pit-inducing thrashy hardcore bordering on powerviolence” to mark 10 years of pummeling. Enough said. “Biometric Verification” takes a swipe at the modern grid city, the techno land that could all be so easily unplugged and laid to waste by circuit boards and data gear rigged and rioted. Meanwhile, environmental haiku like “Embers falling / coastal lands calling” infuses the tune “Embers.” It’s a brief burst of thought as concentrated as the drink Tang. “Scuba Diving and Politics” zooms on the racist villainy of the Klan, John Birch Society, and David Duke, plus the liars and hired hands that keep them cozy. “Nailed to the X Box” is a miniature thesis of pain and anguish regarding the guns and fisticuffs that shred people’s hope on the streets today, from corner to corner, where the hiccupping blasts and booms turn people into limp sock monkeys, dead creatures lining the night. George Bush becomes “Hated Dude #1” on “Re-throned Emperor,” while Mel Gibson is decapitated on “The Cash In of the Christ,” which asserts he is on the edge of being a moron, a holocaust revisionist with a Hollywood base as his lethal weapon.
