The following is the October 1987 installment of Puszone
Thanks to Scott Slimm for the article.
8:17. The band was running late. The show was supposed to start
at 8:00 and the crowd was becoming restless. Finally, an intro tape
started. As the band came out from the shadows and clanged away at
their instruments, the crowd stood up, cheering wildly. The sound was
too loud, the mix was terrible. It all became a blurr as the noise
deafened. A spectrum of colors iluminated the dark. The power surge was
intense, vibrating my skin. I sought for something to plug my ears; the
sound roared past my extreme limit. The first song came to a sudden halt.
The excitement of the crowd roared through the auditorium as the band
introduced the next number. A slow guitar beat strummed in an eerie fashion
as fog drifted about the stage and floated into the crowd. I noticed the
band was not visible, but the guitar chords still echoed out. The thick,
greyish-white fog floated to where I was sitting and swallowed everything
around me. I could not see anything. Even the people next to me were faint
images. Suddenly, I felt dizzy, even a bit nauseous. I rubbed my rapidly
sweating forehead as it throbbed with pain. I seemed to be losing control,
as if hypnotised. My insides began to swell. The pain jammed my entire body.
In the distance I heard screams of agony and what sounded like tiny explosions.
But I didn't pay much attention since now I was barely standing up. I rubbed
my arm and the flesh peeled off and blood dripped to the floor. It was as if
I was completely melting. What was this fog? My skin began popping. The screams
throughout the auditorium grew louder. The pain was extreme. I fell to the
floor, landing on another spectator. I felt a vomiting urge inside me before
my stomach burst outward, intestines flopping out onto the floor. The rest of
my body followed, blasting from the inside out and continuing until I was a
heap of flesh garbage.
The next day, the local paper bore the headlines "Chemical Gas Kills Thousands
at Rock Concert." The story opened "In the quest for complete power, a substance
was created that kills innocent people, and last nigh someone released the
lethal warfare chemical, which then seeped into the bodies of thousands through
stage fog."
HAHA, this Puszone saga is defintely not a nightmare, maybe more like an exploding
dream that will someday be knocking on, or should we say creeping under,
your door.
The young thrashers with the name Death Angel, who by chance are also relatives,
get their opportunity to deliver extreme goods to the world's ear. After a
successful demo, this debut album The Ultra Violence takes the speed
metal venture one step further with enough stamina to make it a bit brighter
in the sea of metal stars. Death Angel hail from san Francisco and have been
together for a number of years. This has enabled their sound to really blossom.
Despite their youth, the record is very powerful, something you'd expect from
seasoned pros. This LP features eight lengthy tracks with a volley of compositional
changes. The songs work in and out of each other, exploring many riffs and
power sections, and still keeping a steadfast rate while not overworking the
speed. Guitarists Rob Cavestany and Gus Pepa charge forth with continual fret
action, hitting high and low notes and never peaking in one direction. The
guitar work is the highlight here. Unusual leads, continual drives, and the
ability to keep the song moving without two guitars fighting for the limelight
is what makes it all so harmonious. Tracks like "Thrashers", "Mistress of Pain"
and "Evil Priest" really define the Death Angel sound. Less typical is "Voracious
Souls", and adenturous cut with some speedy sctions but much calmer choruses.
Very Rush-like, yet quick. Their anthem "Kill as One", storms with a vicious
combustion, a metallic, core-inertia builder. Wicked stuff. Since the tracks are
lengthier, vocalist Mark Osegueda doesn't croom much, although his voice is strong.
He is definitely not a creamer. His voice enters each piece with precision,
working in sync with the instruments. Death Angel comes off more as an
instrumental speed band, and this is a good style. Each member holds his own,
and hopefully these five guys will go far. It's raging good metal that's a bit more
original than the rest. On Enigma Records.
Readers of this column are surely familiar with Seattle, Washington's The Accused,
whose new LP More Fun Than an Open Casket Funeral! rips in the tradition that Martha Splatterhead set forth. A great continuation of spastic vocals flung
amid fast, rip-roaring, speedcore havoc carries that no-holds-barred attack.
Amazing how this band survives the ear piercing barrage of sonic slaughter they
punch out. Even in a city where rock music is practically banned, The Accused
continue with vicious savagery and brutal riffs of heavy passion. Blaine's vocals
are as crunched out and wild as ever. Tom fligns the strings quick with bleeding
vigor, Dana still smashed the drums, building those shoulder muscles and new
addition Alex, on bass guitar, thumps away with deep chords. Fourteen tracks show
why The Accused haul with the best. Cuts like "Mechanized Death,""Halo of Flies,"
"Take No Prisoners" and the classic "Rape" with its intense lyrical structure,
prove that this disc will get you flailing in no time. The Accused constantly
push the pedal to the metal, scorching out the heated tunes. A truly fine release.
On Combat Records.
Let's face it, the new thrash ensemble out of England who call themselves
Frankfurter is really The Stupids in disguise, or at least some of them. Tommy
Stupid's sister band introduces a 12" pizza entitled Eat which carries
the identical thrash humor that the Stupids dish out. In fact, if you didn't know
this was Frankfurter, you'd say it was the Stupids. No blindfold tests here. Fast
hardcore in a U.S. form via the U.K. with lots of screaming and spoken words,
it is funny and entertaining. The majority of the songs deal with eating, which
must be Frankfurter's favorite pastime, and when not food it's zombies(2 titles)
and girls. There is even a cover of a classic Jerry's Kids' tune, retitled here
as "Raise the Breadknife", yet done in total seriousness. These guys are hard to
figure out, but why try? It's all fun and done well. I guess with success spoiling
the Stupids, Frankfurter may well follow. Right now it's all meat with no ketchup.
On Vinyl Solution Records, somewhere in the U.K.
Token Entry hails from New York and gets their name from the subway. With
their debut LP From Beneath the Streets, Token Entry blend a mixture
of New York hardcore circa 1983 with a Husker Du sound, only rawer, with
abrasive aggression and thought-provoking lyrics. Harmonious edges spark up
this medium-paced rocker that also shows a slight metallic edge. Live studio
production makes for a gritty, hollow sound that has a real live feel. However,
this band's potential remains to be seen because this live "sound" doesn't give the
full charge of Token Entry. The five members give it their all with a bit of
originality, too. Watch this band in the future. On Positive Force Records.
After a long quiet absence, the thrash kings of Pennsylvania have returned, or
at least their sound has since this was recorded in 1985, but it's still a treat.
F.O.D.-Flag of Democracy wage warfare with turbulent thrusts that quickly zoom
from one groove to another on this recently released Shatter Your Day LP.
Crazed and brutal, F.O.D. charge rampantly, smashing down everything, bulldozing
with non-blurring speed that doesn't lose it's strength. It's chaotic charm is
effective. Each blast is a classic-fast, thrashy and seemingly out of control.
This has similarities to that legendary Gang Green stuff on the Boston Not L.A.
LP, especially when you cue up the title track or the one following, "The Family
Knows". Total brilliance in hardcore, like those great days in the early eighties;
F.O.D. have what it takes and balls out to do it great. Sixteen tracks rage
havoc and will have you speed mongers begging for more, despite your bleeding
ears from continual plays. This is the cream of the crop for current U.S. hardcore
LPs, Philadelphia is lucky to have such a ripsaw band. Demand this power.
On Buy Our Records.
And now over to Japan, where the incredible blitz of molten speed continues to
blaze. First is a superb six-track EP by a new band called Chicken Bowels, who hit
a fast hardcore pace with an '82 U.K. feel, only speedier. Crunchy vocals shout
with the barrage and each track is sure-fire devastation. Raw power explodes from
the cabinets as the speakers splinter from the distortion. Lyrics are sung in English
and Japanese, making an interesting combination. The energy level is high, with lots
of aggression, powerful sounds and the ability to race fast. Chicken Bowels are from
the Hiroshima area, which is becoming a hotbed of new talent for thrash-speedcore
excitement. Great cover for this EP.
Also from hiroshima is the tongue twisting attack of pants-on-fire speed and
wildman antics that will have all you thrash buzzards perking up your necks.
The band is Googol Plex and do they haul! A grinding guitar opens up the first track
"Give it Up!" only to introduce you to the buzzsaw wail of unhesitating
mayhem exploding from all sides. While being extremely fast, Googol Plex will
segment and highlight the raunchy guitar sound, only to storm into a blizzard
again. Hoarse vocals croon at the forefront in the Japanese tradition. This
eight-song EP entitled Nail a Lie to the Counter rages mightily with an
effect that leaves your ears ringing. Another quality speed release from Japan.
