This disc is not only exciting, it is singable, listenable, and crammed with dirty secrets to clog your mind’s jewelry box, like jewels crusted in garbage.
No One is from Chicago, combines rapcore groove and the stuttering riffs and roar/speaking styles, but they toss in a psychedelic acoustic desert stroll…
While Amen is pretty standard angry rock/metal fare for those immersed in the underground, there are people who haven’t gotten further than Limp Bizkit.
On the whole, these 45 minutes are colorful and active (more swaying/grooving than fist-banging), a great record to play from end to end while hanging out.
Mr. Osterberg is, sad to report, sorta just another old rock star who should put a shirt on and maybe finally rest on the ruins of his fucking laurels.