The following is the May 1988 installment of Puszone
Thanks to Scott Slimm for the article.
Blood dripped from his face. He was a pathological liar. Each drop
of red fluid represented a lie that had been told. He had based his
life on fooling people. White lies, he'd call them. Never did he
realize that so long ago, when he started believing his own lies,
his own trickery, he had become a lie. Behind his back, the chatter
would go on. The majority of the conversations were about the fact
that his nose had the brownest tan for someone who was never in
the sun. Alwyas working his way up the wrong way. The crimson pool
grew bigger on the concrete. It started to reflect his sick, grotesque,
inner personality. He looked at the blood, the mirror image. He
saw his eyes, he saw the deceit. He didn't care. It alwyas worked
his way. He had the power. He knew how to use it. This was only
a slight setback for him. He thought of a way to get out of this mess.
The blood still oozed outward. The cuts were big upon his face,
the bruises had started to swell. He lay here upon the concrete.
He had seen this sight before, in a different town, at a different
time, but it always had the same cause-his deception. He had always
played the game a bit too far. He didn't know how to stop. He
knew that in order to win he would have to con them. Yes, them.
There were six of them, all standing around his fallen, bloody body,
all waiting. He knew the answer. He would con them by begging for
forgiveness, in a sincere manner; it had always worked before. The
game was always the same. A little bit of laughter, some "I have
learned my lesson" speeches, and he would be freed. He started
giggling a bit ; maybe he was a bit too proud of his soon to be
success. He looked up at the six and froze. As he lay there in fear,
he shut his eyes, hoping it would go away, and then looked up again.
Still, the six were there. The six that were him. All six. Each
one a reflection of himself. He started choughing. Suddenly he was
choking. He grabbed his throat. Blood had gotten inside. He lunged
forward. Everything stopped. It was a dream, rather a vicious nightmare.
He looked down to see his pillow drenched in blood. He looked
around his hexagonal room with its wall-to-wall mirros, and he saw his
judges and he remembered his punishment. He remembered his prison.
He remembered his deception. He wished he would have been a good boy.
He wished it would all go away. He told himself a lie and smiled. He
would never learn. He would never be trusted, for he didn't trust
himself. He didn't care.
"How come he keeps repeating, 'I don't care'?" His parents asked the
"Once he overdosed on those hallucinogenic drugs, something in his mind
snapped, bringing out a guilt in his conscience. He goes through this
ritual everyday like clockwork, at the stroke of six."
"He was such a nice boy." said the parents. "He was so trustworthy."
The intern screamed down the hall, "Will someone bring the mop! How
many months have we been doing this now? You'd think you'd know
the time by now!!"
Oh yeah-the time. Yes, it's time for the Puszone once again.
Let's see, it's going on 5:59, so we'd better get started.
The production is by John Paul jones, ex-bass player for Led Zeppelin.
The title of this 12" vinyl slab is Tower of Strength and the band is The Mission. The Mission is gaining popularity among all types of
musical fans with their enchanting charisma. On this new 12", their
sixth, The Mission are a tad subdued, but that does't stop the beauty
or power of this sound. Four tracks are presented here. It's very
calm, relaxed and quiet in the same was as Led Zeppelin's Physical
Graffiti. The influence is obvious here, and it works well
with The Mission. Wayne Hussey's vocals cry deep on the title track,
which is lengthy but keeps your attention. The guitars hit nicely
with acoustical rhythms in the beginning, and the production work
captures everything: so many parts, so many sections. The guitars
have an eerie sound throughout the mid and Mick Brown keeps up a
clean, tight beat. When the song grabs hold you listen again and
again. Simon Hinkler's leads echo on "Fabienne" and then on a cover of
Aerosmith's "Dream On" which is shrewdly performed. Though both
songs are in the mellower vein, The Mission have not lost any of the
guts that they started off with. If you're looking for something that
contains no speed, only spicy rhythms and harmonies, check into The
Mission. I've seen a lot of people who were locked into other genres
fall all over themselves when they heard this band-and demand to hear
more. I've followed them since the beginning, and the newest disc is
definately a step forward. Cheers! Phonogram/Mercury
"Eighteen bands looslely collected under the hardcore banner all with
a firm commitment to nuclear disarmament...," sayd the press release
that came with this English compilation LP with over sixty minutes of
music on Peaceville Records. The album is titled A Vile Peace,
and while a majority of this noise is of hardcore origin, there are
speedy metal sounds here too. This is an excellent smapling of the new
bands coming out of England, including, Electro Hippies, Chumbawamba,
Dare Crusade, Civilised Society?, Hell Bastard, Axegrinder,
Decadence Within, Feed Your Head, Bedlam, Rest in Pain,
Visions of Change, Atavistic, Insurrection, Doom, Deviated
Instinct, Sore Throat, Revulsion and Dawn of Liberty.
The recording quality goes up and down, but the effort is a superior one.
Interesting! On Peaceville.
The older hardcore style is starting to make a comeback-raw, turbulent,
aggressive, loud and sometimes snotty. Still, that sound never went away;
it just diversified a bit. Here are two new 7" platters by two young bands.
The first is Big Gulp from connecticut, whose seven-song disc
strikes hard with grungy, distorted guitar punches. These simple
compositions are tight and well delivered for such a young band. Reminiscent
of early Adolescents and Wasted Youth, Big Gulp pushes forth a sound that has
more of a 1980 West Coast attack sound. This Hard to Swallow EP features
some classic bits of the older hardcore sound. The crazed vocalist reminds me
of Cliff Hanger of The Freeze or Tony Cadena. This is sure a different
To the south, down kentucky way is a band called Big Deal, that dishes
it out fast and wild. Quick, solid bursts of angered mayhem charge roughly
and the screaming vocalist doesn't quit. This Very mysterious EP
contains seven tracks which display a no-holds-barred, early '80s thrash
approach. They have the same sort of energy as Adrenalin O.D. in their
spurts of speedy ferocity-the two would make a great double bill.
The compositions are full of insane stop 'n go's and just the right combinations
to make this a totally fun EP. Another young band making a stab for your
earplay, on Self Destruct Records.
Okay, Mike at New Beginning finally got his act together and sent me
the Half Off 12" he had been promising. These orange County posi-thrashers
serve up vicious slices of demented speed and rough-arsed energy. I bet this
is one hot combo live, but on record it falls short. The highlight of this band
is definately the guitar work-the raw, gritty tone, the rapid changes of chords
and the brutal, forceful attack of grinding power. But when the vocals start,
too much is screamed at once, with no structural breaks or choruses. Half Off has
the potential, but the vocals overstay their welcome. The Truth is the title
of the fourteen-song EP, and it does have its moments. Maybe with time this band
can formulate a structure to better incorporate the power of the music with the
thrust of vocals. Half Off definately does sound a lot better than a lot of bands out
there, though, because the music rips the hair off your scalp. On New Beginning
Those Dutch maniacs, Larm, really surprised me with their latest, especially
after being totally disappointed by their last release. This little 7" gem really
packs a whallop. Even though it is uncontrollable noise, Larm has found a
formula-adding breaks, well placed chants and choruses and interesting variations
to keep it from being another blurr. Nothing is Hard in This World if You
Dare to Scale the Heights is the title and the twelve tracks here really
explode with thick energy and jumping mayhem. The vocals are deep. The
guitars are distorted and piercing. The bass is burly. The drums are nervous,
and the lyrics are sincere, especially in psychological numbers like,
"Shades". Smash and bash speedcore from Larm.
There's something about the Japanese thrash attack that roars with a dominance
and when it's good, it rages. Hiroshima blasters Gudon strike out
with the goods on this third released, their first on Selfish. There is
a technique to this sound-how it rises, how it attacks, how it never
backs off, and how, amid the mayhem, it holds your attention. Gudon has
improved with each release. Guitarist Zigyaku creates a chord barrage blizzard
and throws in accelerating leads for insanity's sake. Happy's vocals sear
outward as he tonsils the melody right down tight. The drum work is superior,
with plenty of change-ups abd quick smashings. The six songs create a mind bomb
exploding within your cranium. The Hiroshima scene is growing rapidly with plenty
of good bands. Zigyaku and company have seen a parting of ways though, so this
is the last blast from Gudon. Zigyaku has formed a new outfil called Half Years, and this is definately a unit to watch for. As for Gudon,
catch this if you can. It's a fine moment in Japanese speed thrash. On Selfish Records.