PUS ZVINE
I walked into a medium-size room
with white walls, high ceilings and
wood floors, scantily filled with rich
brown furniture. Two couples sat face
to face on adjacent couches. In
reality, I don't think the couples knew
there was anyone else in the room,
since they disposed themselves to
selfish arguments over petty matters
that continued in volleys of retaliation.
The echo was loud; the voltage was
at a peak. Sad that they could not see
their impulsive reactions and how the
fire built more fire. Ego motivated
these four. I spoke, then fell on the
floor acting like a spastic, and
smashed my failing body against the
wall, but they didn't even blink an eye.
I felt like a fool to do such things, but
I cared and I just couldn't get them -
to stop, slow down or see. Haired
rose. Like the temperature on the
dark side of the moon, the mood was
freezing cold and continually drop-
ping. I think these four brains were
too. I had no power and violence is
not in my book, but I could be
cunning.
Darting out of the room, I quickly
searched for just the right objects. I
found the first in the pantry area-
four medium-sized paper grocery
bags. In the bathroom I found four
hand mirrors. Yes, this should do the
trick. The couples were getting
louder in the other room. I took some
five-minute epoxy and glued the mir
rors to the inside of the bags. While
I waited for the glue to dry, I found
some ear muffs, so I attached a pair
to the top of each bag. With
everything in place, I took some
lipstick and wrote in bright red letters
"LOOK" at the tops of the mirrors.
I now hurried to the battle room. I
stood in front of Couple A, whb never
noticed me, and quickly pushed the
first two bags over each of their
heads. I think I confused them,
because they shut up. So I went to
Couple B and repeated the process.
Sure enough, they shut up too. The
quiet felt good. Now with peace in the
room, I sat down to read the Puszone
88
You see, I gave it a chance, If these
four individuals just looked at
themselves, they could see who the
real enemy was. I hope they don't
realize it was me who did it, or I might
be scraping Puszone off my face.
Never can trust those violent types.
Hohoho Puszoners, your monthly
installment is here again with a host
of choice morsels. Get yer 'zone
sticker and pus central list for 3-22
or send the goods to Pushead, PO
Box 701, SF, CA 94101 US.A..
Thanx.
Fist-crunchers smash down hard
as this brutal sonic assault takes form
with its heavy barrage of deep tones
and full tilt grinds. For a three piece,
Doom melt down the damage in a
form similar to Venom but faster and
with a skull crushing stamina. On
their first Lp release, No More Pain,
this Japanese power threesome belt
out eight steamy tracks that strike
with an energetic voltage full of
disorderly guitar tracks and a thick,
furiously creative jazz-plucked bass
vibration. Bassist K. Morola, donning
a devil lock and white face paint, hits
a mean finger thrust as bass chords
flutter with harsh pulsating vigor. An
unusual touch for this speedcore
approach. Feedback spraying
guitarist, Y. Fujita, spits,out raging
emotion in his growing vocals as the
strings blaze with havoc. In a year
when bands have become so predict-
able, Doom have added a unique-
ness that bolts bold with fury.
increasing the depth of their already
powerful sound. Not a speed journey,
it has its fast parts, but No More Pain
relies more on its ponderous inten-
sity, making this disc boom out of
those throbbing speakers. On Rock
House Explosion Records, BIF DAI-2
Matsushita Bid., 112Y Araicho,
Shinjuku-ku Tokyo Japan. It comes
with a free two-song flexi
Now put the pedal to the metal and
zoom up that throttle, for this 1000
mph, split-second rush is keyed up
and amped to go. Abrasive thrash
blasters, Ripcord, have unleashed
their first Lp with the spinning effect
of full-speed chaotic splurges. After
the success of their self-produced
flex, the gang followed the path of
Manic Ears and came up with a
thirteen-song mini-Lp entitled
Defiance of Power. This record hauls
a vicious load of quick aggressive
grinds, explosive whacks and maniac
shouting, which is so frantic that the
flailing turns to bulldozing. The
punches are cleaving blows that hook
at every turn and blur with each rapid
surge of adrenalin. Disorder is
engaged in critical warfare, the topics
covered in the lyrics are the band's
personal and political views thrust out
in a graunched-out fashion. Thrash,
over-blown mayhem, yeah, that's
Ripcord, squawking and barking and
keeping the fire burning-a force to
be reckoned with. It's fun, fast, fierce,
flying exertion that jams radically,
however the speedy snare/hi-hat
combos become a bit repetitious
But, moms, this will truly give you a
headache 'cause your juniors will
play this to death. Warned or what?
On Manic Ears Box 666 Full Marks
Bookshop, 37 Stokes Croft, Bristol
BS2 3PY England UK.
claims that this will be big-they
could be right,but the record's not
being sold for its originality. These ten
songs sound like they're from a hor-
ror movie with a fast-paced metal
push that runs out of steam as it all
blends together. "Zombie Ritual"
stands out above the rest. On Combat
Records. 14903 Guy R. Brewer
Blvd, Jamaica, NY 11434
Rock and roll heaven could very
well be the place that the Stupids
want to visit, but they wouldn't want
to relocate there. I guess it's just this
casual sonse they have. In their semi-
short career the Stupids have gone
from juvenile pranksters to profes
sional pranksters- guess maybe
popularity has gone to their heads.
Nah. Tommy Stupid? Never. Marty
Tuff? Never. It must be that irritable
humor they have; it's disturbing and
anarchistic. Just look at the cover of
the new mini Lp Van Stupid. Is this
slick or what? After the disgusting
doodles on the past two Lps, here's.
the Stupids trying to be the Beastie
Boys. Oh boy, girls, this is for you. And
inside you'll find classic Stupids
material, not unlike the last three
platters-ripping hardcore that
maims your mind and features new
member Eddy Shred. There are
seven spastic tracks and one rappin'
tune called "Stoopie Boys'-is this
a parody or what? They hate their
friends, they hate their enemies, does
anyone take them seriously?
Hopefully their skateboards do. On
Vinyl Solution Records, 39 Hereford
Road, London W2, England UK
Full force dominance with a
compelling appeal abruptly bashes
out one speedy, bombastic barrage
of nitro-fused momentum. A crushing
delivery of power, quickness, and
ambition charges aggressively as
this debut Lp by Prong proves to be
quite a ferocious platter. Much faster-
than I expected but still radically tight,
Prong have suddenly arrived with an
unexpected brilliance. Their demos
were really good, yet this is definitely
Prong at their finest! It's amazing
how well this three-piece can kick in
the jams. Full of metallic flavoring and
hardcore artillery, Primitive Origins
erupts with seven sonic blasters that
grab with full vitality. It's a total
no-holds-barred approach with no
This band has hyped themselves
for years, with a full volley of demos
circling about by a handful of
members. Now the album is finally
here. The band is Death, originally sloppy lix'ens. Perhaps Prong is the
from Florida, recently relocated and
reformed in the Bay Area. The new
group plays a heavy blend of speed
metal in a mold that is somewhat
typical these days. What Death does
is good, very strong, tight and aggres
sive, to say the least. But then again,
it sounds too much like the Possess
ed. There are differences, though
Heavy production beefs up this
Scream Bloody Gore Lp as totally
raspy vocals dominate in screaming
passionate fury, and guitar strings fly
in feverish ficks, leading the way to
speed beyond speed. Snare whacks
drive you up the wall-they're just too
much. Why have a full drum kit when
most of it is so rarely used? The label
strongest outfit to hail from the New
York scene of late, the sound is
intense, the drive totally rages and it's
mixed up with a multitude of changes
and good chord progressions. Top
that all off with the sheer, brutal
energy of a hard working outfit and
you've got a winner. Congrats to Mike,
Ted, and Tommy-this is exceptional.
On Mc Bear Records, PO Box 1169
Cooper Station, New York, NY 10276.
Lobotomia hail from Sao Paulo.
Brazil, and prove that there is still
exciting energy in the Brazilian
hardcore scene. The production on
this debut Lp has a low tone, giving
Lobotomia a deep, raw sound that
Frantic scratchings: What started as a Pushead sketch, becomes a beautiful color Squeal rendering. Madness through the mail.
is brash, bold and full of savage
disorder. Harsh growling vocals
pierce through the compositions that
move rapidly but not hurriedly.
Rigorous drum beats keep the pace
as the guitar roars loudly, with a thick
and chunky sound similar to Brazil's
Olho Seco. The lyrics are in
Portuguese, but translated in
English. The Lp consists of nine
tracks that drive with similar assaults,
all of a high caliber. Interesting
voltage from this four piece. On New
Face Records, CAIXA Postal 20030,
Cep: 02527, Sao Paulo, SP, Brazil.
Remember when Cheech and
Chong said they played Black
Sabbath at 78 rpm and saw God?
Naturally thousands flipped their
Sabbath records onto the turntables
and hit the 78 rpm button. That sound
must have influenced a generation,
for now Macabre have appeared, and
the velocity here is like that 78 rpm
Sabbath. Definitely flying through
each number, Macabre could
possibly beat all comers to the
Fastest Band title. Just listen to the
title track, "Serial Killers." Even the
vocals sound like they are at the
wrong speed. The drummer.
smashes the kick bass so quickly,
we're talking leg cramps. This is
insanity. This six-song 12" Ep which
deals mostly with strange, murderous
song themes, is actually quite fun. It
is so split-second, mayhemic and
fast, you just can't believe they pull
it off. Maniacs is definitely the word
here. All you speed thrashers of the
cult underground, this is your genre.
Search and try to keep up. On
Decomposed Records Write
Macabre at PO Box 9375, Downers
Grove, IL 60515
Speed merchants are coming out
of the woodwork now. From
Indianapolis comes a vicious
onslaught of whacked-out quickness
with crude wallops of metallic
punches and a hard thrash drive
called Transgression Vocalist Paul
Linhart ravages his throat with meaty,
raw growls of hoarse turbulence. This
twelve-song cassette shows brute
strength and packs a mean punch
that continues without hesitation,
track after track. A lot of new bands
are rising-enter Transgression into
the race. The energy is boiling
Transgression, 4326 N. Crittenden
Ave., Indianapolis, IN 46205
Italy has seen a lot of explosive
action with some outfits zooming to
break the sound barrier. Though
Crash Box is fast, they're not fast to
that ultra degree. Full of metal chunka
chunkas, smashed in with a forceful
hardcore delivery, Crash Box mixes
it up harmonious and works up an
exciting disc in the process. Guitar
dominates with a steady flow, even
as it rasps with a precise, hypnotic,
yet vigorous whine. Vocalist Marco
enters at just the right spots, letting
the music speak also. An intriguing
cover greets you on this Finale Lp.
which offers twelve tracks, all with
steadfast surges, increasing in power.
Not too slow and not too fast, Crash
Box don't just crash in. TVO.R. on
Vinyl, S. Vail, Casella Postalle 804,
Como 5-22100 Como Italy
B
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