26 August 2009
Super noisy, fucked up one man punk from the Pacific Northwest. Guitar, drum machine and vocals are all that ASHAME need to make a pretty massive ruckus, a ruckus that is almost constantly out of tune and off time. In a different time and from a different place, this personal assault might be called art, but perhaps it's really just a total fucking mess made in some dude's bedroom. I would try it while eating cereal, or perhaps toast.