Blown out punk as fukk madness from the Gainesville MAUSER tree. You know what you're getting here, and you are about to get a motherfukkn facefull - searing guitars, a beyond bombastic rhythm section and vocals shouting out a constant struggle to be heard through the white hissssssss. Your ears can only take so much when digested at proper volume, and ECTOPLASM has cut their initial offering mercifully short at four songs. You're welcome.
1 comment:
Bitchin'
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