Eight minutes of breakneck fastcore, jerkoff riffs and frantic high end vocals? Sure. Good idea. Sign me up. The fucking breakdowns (see "Automotive Phallus") are faster than most millennial hardcore, and the irreverence is refreshing beyond words. Did you know the main industry in Bellingham, Washington is (or at least was?) toilet paper? I mean, someone has to make it, right? Shit smells weird there (mostly the air) but it has always seemed like a nice place when I've passed through. And geez, the blasts in "I Believe This Knife Belongs To You, Mike Koplowitz" (I'm back to the tape here, try to keep up) are so gloriously sloppy; the way they trail off at the end of each chorus...? It rules. There's a reason why people look back on fondly on Y2K fastcore - it wasn't perfect (nothing is), but damn it was fun. And RIPPED TO SHREDS ruled.
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