Guilt are low, mean, noisy, and yet musical, and heavy. You might even say “spooky.” Their songs range from blasts of hardcore rage to scores of sadness.
The guitars make a collage of painterly abstract art, and the drums are an eraser following close behind, smudging everything into new and less coherent forms.
41 tracks of old-time hardcore: Grinding guitar riffs, drums and bass struggling to keep the rhythm going, and a singer growling out paeans of negativity.
I expected Satan surf punk. This is way crisper and sunfried. Desert rock, bad-ass rockabilly, or surfbilly-with-twisted-humor on a swaggering drunk binge?