The following is the August 1987 installment of Puszone
Thanks to Brandon Werry for the article.
Travel. I choose the subways and buses to get from place to place.
They have their advantages and disadvantages. Survival/ Automobiles
are just too chaotic when I'm stressed out. Behind the wheel are
panics-ville drivers and being a pedestrian is occasionally a
horrifying expreince. Today, after almost getting pulverized by
a blind motorist, I headed downward into the underground realm of
subway world. As usual, the old "Spare change?" routine was immediately
popped into my face. I walked onward and through the gates. As the
begger continued to mumble the cunning phrases and pathetic gestures,
I waited a few moments for the train. When it arrived, I entered the
car and plopped down into a seat. Having paid no attention to who I sat
next to, I was somewhat shocked when the hand pushed its way into my
face again. I looked over and saw it was the same beggar. But how?
I got up and walked hurriedly to another car and sat down. Sweat dribbled
down my face. At the next stop I rushed out of the car and up the stairs.
When I got to the top, a hand smashed into my chest. It startled me.
I looked over...it was the same beggar again. I turned and ran,
not looking back. I was a bit frightened as I quickly paced some yards.
Coming to a halt in front of a store, I took deep breaths until I was
collected enough to walk through the door. I grabbed a can of cola from
the refrigerated section and went to the register. As if enough was not
enough, the hand opened to me.
"Spare change, Mac?" the begger said. This was impossible, the beggar was
behind the counter. My eyes widened and I tushed out, dropping the can of
cola. Running even faster than before, I made a mad dash to my home and
I was nearly exhausted when I got there. For some odd reason I expected
the beggar to be at the foor of the steps. No such bad luck. what a relief.
Inside my house, i sat down to relax and calm my nerves. What a strange
and uncanny day. I fell asleep and started to dream. In the dream I was
heading down into the subway world again. There was the beggar; then
I went through the gates...I awoke. How could I relive that in my dream?
I needed something to take my mind off that beggar. I opened my mag
to the Puszone and started reading. When the hand ripped out of the
magazine, I jumped. But I was freaking out, for it was my own hand
that had gone through the magazine. What was happening? I was shaking
from limb to limb. I looked back at the Puszone and the shredded page
I had made. I turned it and on the right-hand page was an advertisement.
I glanced at it and went into shock. It was that beggar, with the words
"Spare Change" written at the top.
HAHAHA, grandiloquent mad men, welcome to another Puszone, with some new
flailing goodies for your lustful brain.
The first selection on this LP, caught me off guard since this
band's last platter didn't do much to burn the wook in the ol' cranuium.
Now my hair is totally aflame, since this third outing by VoiVod
reaches white heat temperature and scorches past the skin, leaving hot
bones pleased. Killing Technology reminds me a lot of Die Kreuzen.
I never figured a speed-metal band would do this. By combining the heaviness
and power of metal with the speed and rawness of hardcore (crossing over,
so to speak), then introducing a new element that is beyond the crossover,
VoiVod hints that this could just be the tip of the iceberg of powerful
sound to come. Insanity runs amok ar VoiVod charges with an energetic
crack that keeps the whip flinging through seven wacked-out tracks that
proved lengthy but effective. A distorted guitar twang is lit up by a fine
production that showcases speedy licks and strumming madness backed by smashing
drum beats and vocals that are less gruff than those on the two previous
releases. These various attributes come together wildly and work that much
better. VoiVod could get a lot of recognition with this release; it's their
strongest yet, especially the title track, which grabs your attention with
its unique guitar sound and style. The gang's all here, and this is still
on the turntable. Thumbs up for this VoiVod slab. On Noise International.
Hailing from Mesa, Arizona, Desecration races quickly toward havoc with
a speed surge that is raw and vocal and turbulently rushing at a split-
second pace, calming only for breaks between songs. In the tradition
of the hardcore band that put it all up front, furious with a zooming
vigor and the desire to haul, Desecration spew forth a manic barrage of
honest warfare in a musical sense that delights abrasively. Unrelenting
thrusts of battering chords pounce upon your mind as Jack quickly tongues
out some manifesto-ish, yet personal lyrics, and guitarist Dave strums
the bombastic beat. The six songs on this 45 revolutions per minute 12"
are enough to blow your stack. Especially with tracks like "Macho Man,"
"Who's in Control?" and the self titled "Desecration." Extreme jolters.
Self produced and manufactured, this is a limited gem, a lot like that
first Accused 12" with that chaotic quality as well. Truly a "Frash
The stagnation must be over, since a whole crop of new young blood
outfits are exploding everywhere with pile-driving releases. Out of New
York is Warzone, a band that has been around for awhile, and has lost
some past members to known N.Y. bands. Still, the current line-up
featured on this seven-song EP really know how to grind down the bowels.
This is gut-crunching madness at its finest. Even though the production
isn't the best, the strength and stamina of the musical quickness sure
make up for it. Fun, pleasure-packed hardcore abounds on this Lower
East Side Crew EP, Warzone provides a mixture of burly aggression
with rapid, hard-hitting action in the same fashion as that first Agnostic
Front or Cause for Alarm EPs. Straight-edge lyrics, reminiscent of Minor
Threat or SS Decontrol, are spurted out by mai man Raybies as the ensemble
terrorizes with speed and raw vigor. Rabble rousing fury from an
upcoming favorite on Revelation Records.
Perhaps the last thing Tim Bennett of Children of the Revolution Records
did before handing it all over to Shane and Manic Ears Records was to
start compiling this seventeen-band compilation (which Shane helped finish).
And a good English sampler this is, featuring all the potentially insane
and crazed U.K. bands on one track apiece. It's sad to see Tim's departure
but at least he left on one whale of a maniac express. Some of the best
tracks here are the best representation ever of each band. With a roster
of Disorder, Chaos U.K., the Stupids, Concrete Sox, Ripcord, Civilized
Society, Vicious Circle( from Australia), CCM (from Italy), Extreme Noise
Terror, Generic, Depraved and more, the vinyl is splattering everywhere
in bloody combustion. So long to Tim and good luck to Shane. As it says,
"The children of the revolution have manic ears." Not a dry sampler.
Life Sentence comes across soundling like the first two 7 Seconds 7"EPs;
energetic, brash and aggressive. Out of Chicago, Life Sentence has made us
wait a long time for a vinyl release, and itwas well worth it. This record
proves the band to be an impressive three-piece that is driven and determined
to cavort a fast flailing sound that is intense, fierce and full of raunchy
assaults in the brutal sound league. Non-hesitantly hauling and quickly
punching through a song, Tom, Joe and Eric charge with stampeding speed,
while keeping harmonies alive without losing definition. That flavor lasts
good and makes these ten tracks quite fun. The head is bashing against
the chest in excitement as the body runs rampant across the room. Life
Sentence's approach to hardcore is not a new one, but they sure deliver
the thrash goods in a proud fashion with true desire and strong attacks,
making this debut a fine disc. It's a bit short, but look for it on Walkthru
Another band, existing for quite some time and deserving some vinyl, is
Half-Life out of Pittsburgh, PA. On this four-song debut, Under the
Knife, Half-Life arrives with some smart lyrics and a graunched-out
sound that has a slight metal urge but still favors that raw abrasive feel
that keeps the speed and 'core edge. From the heavy lacings of "More of
the Same" to the excellent attack of "Consider the Alternative," Half-Life
prove to be quite a creative foursome that works well together and creates
quite a storm. With the harsh vocals of Jeff Lamm out in the forefront and
growling with a passionate flair, guitarist Vince Curtis grinds away and
harmonizes and Mike Lavella provides thumping power as Damon Che pounds
it all out on drums. And it's not all snare drum work; this guy works up a
sweat playing the whole kit, rolls and all. Now that's a good drummer with
a creative mind. This will definitely be an overlooked EP, so watch for
Half-Life on Mind Cure Records.
Now over to the Orient, where the Japanese continue to release choice
material. As I was anxiously awaiting this second LP, I had no idea what
to expect. It's been quite a while since Detestation came out, so
whem i recieved this second GISM LP entitled M.A.N. (Military Affairs
Neurotic) , I was quite thrilled. But at first listen I realized a change
had taken place. Not a bad change, it just takes you by surprise at first.
And once you catch your breath, this is perhaps one of the strongest, most
unique metal LPs of 1987. Randy's guitar works rings of Iron Maiden riffs
and the sound pounds loudly. But when Sakevi's voice eneters the picture,
you know this is different. And from the sonic shills running down your spine
and the smile on your face, you know this attacks harshly. Intense lyrical
structures smash you in the face in this uncommom metal composition. After the
first two tracks, "Start to Forget" enters in an industrial vein which is
not annoying. Then "Nations Prosperity" charges in the first GISM LP tradition-
all the speed and growling drive you mad. This is great! No band does what
GISM does or shocks like GISM can. That kind of brillance people call
If you must find one ultra thrash LP this year, them in must be the new
twelve-song slash and bash banzai barrage from Osaka's Outo. This is
the best spastic album of 1987. This 12" hauls so much fury and aggression
your eyes will pop out as you scream in excitement. Ripping is totally
the word. This band has improved so much it's incredible. Butcher's
voice yells in maniac expression as Katsumi fingers the strings so fast
the blood flies everywhere. Each track has its own charms and its own tempo
and fires with an extreme, untamed rage. The Fahrenheit is rising and with
good reason; the momentum here is quite brutal, bursting out in chaotic
thrusts and clamorous shouts. Outo sound the alarm and don't back off.
It's wonderful to see the kind of onslaught that bites so sharply and
with such a gonzoid rush. It's invigoratin. Fab! On Selfish Records.