PUSHINE
Blood dripped from his face. He
was a pathological liar. Each drop of
red fluid represented a lie that had
been told. He had based his life on
fooling people. White lies, he'd call
them. Never did he realize that so
long ago, when he started believing
his own lies, his own trickery, he had
become a lie. Behind his back, the
chatter would go on. The majority of
the conversations were about the fact
that his nose had the brownest tan
for someone who was never in the
sun. Always working his way up the
wrong way. The crimson pool grew
bigger on the concrete. It started to
reflect his sick, grotesque inner per-
sonality. He looked at the blood, the
mirror image. He saw his eyes, he
saw the deceit. He didn't care. It
always worked his way. He had the
power. He knew how to use it. This
was only a slight setback for him. He
thought of a way to get out of this
mess. The blood still oozed outward.
The cuts were big upon his face, the
bruises had started to swell. He lay
there upon the concrete. He had
seen this sight before, in a different
town, at a different time, but it always
had the same cause-his deception.
He had always played the game a bit
too far. He didn't know how to stop.
He knew that in order to win he would
have to con them. Yes, them. There
were six of them, all standing around
his fallen, bloody body, all waiting.
He knew the answer. He would con
them by begging for forgiveness in
a sincere manner; it had always
worked before. The game was always
the same. A little bit of laughter, some
"I have learned my lesson"
speeches, and he would be freed. He
started giggling a bit; maybe he was
a bit too proud of his soon to be suc-
cess. He looked up at the six and he
froze. As he lay there in fear, he shut
his eyes, hoping it would go away.
and then looked up again. Still, the
six were there. The six that were him.
All six. Each one a reflection of
himself. He started coughing. Sud-
denly he was choking. He grabbed
his throat. Blood had gotten inside.
He lunged forward. Everything.
stopped. It was a dream, rather a
vicious nightmare. He looked down
to see his pillow drenched in blood.
He looked around his hexagonal
room with its wall-to-wall mirrors, and
he saw his judges and he
remembered his punishment. He
remembered his prison. He remem-
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bered his deception. He wished he
would have been a good boy. He
wished it would all go away. He told
himself a lie and smiled. He would
never learn. He would never be
trusted, for he didn't trust himself. He
didn't care.
"How come he keeps repeating,
"I don't care? His parents asked the
asylum intern.
"Once he overdosed on those
hallucinogenic drugs, something in
his mind snapped, bringing out a
guilt in his conscience. He goes
through this ritual everyday like
clockwork, at the stroke of six."
"He was such a nice boy," said the
parents. "He was so trustworthy."
The intern screamed down the
hall, "Will someone bring the mop!
How many months, have we been
doing this now? You'd think you'd
know the time by now!!"
Oh, yeah-the time. Yes, it's time
for the Puszone once again. Lets
see, it's going on 5:59, so we'd better
get started. Vinyl, tapes, etc. are
always welcome, or send three 220
stamps for a Puszone sticker.
Puszone, PO Box 701, San Fran-
cisco, CA 94101.
The production is by John Paul
Jones, ex-bass player for Led Zep-
pelin. The title of this 12" vinyl slab
is Tower of Strength and the band is
The Mission. The Mission is gaining
popularity among all types of musical
fans with their enchanting charisma.
On this new 12", their sixth, The
Mission are a tad subdued, but that
doesn't stop the beauty or power of
this sound. Four tracks are presented
here. It's very calm, relaxed and quiet
in the same way as Led Zeppelin's
Physical Graffiti. The influence is ob-
vious here, and it works well with The
Mission. Wayne Hussey's vocals cry
deep on the title track, which is
lengthy but keeps your attention. The
guitars hit nicely with acoustical
rhythms in the beginning, and the
production work captures everything:
so many parts, so many sections,
The guitars have an eerie sound
throughout the mid and Mick Brown
keeps up a clean, tight beat. When
the song grabs hold you listen again
and again. Simon Hinkler's leads
echo on "Fabienne" and then on a
cover of Aerosmith's "Dream On"
which is shrewdly performed.
Though both songs are in the
mellower vein, The Mission have not
lost any of the guts they started off
RAD
Frantic Scratchings-Robert Neal.
with. If you're looking for something
that contains no speed, only spicy
rhythms and harmonies, check into
The Mission. I've seen a lot of peo-
ple who were locked into other
genres fall all over themselves when
they heard this band-and demand
to hear more. I've followed them
since the beginning, and the newest
disc is definitely a step forward.
Cheers! Phonogram/Mercury
"Eighteen bands loosely collected
under the hardcore banner all with
a firm commitment to nuclear
disarmament..." says the press
release that came with this English
compilation Lp with over sixty
minutes of music on Peaceville
Records. The album is titled A Vile
Peace, and while a majority of this
noise is of hardcore origin, there are
speedy metal sounds here too. This
is an excellent sampling of the new
bands coming out of England, in-
cluding Electro Hippies, Chum-
bawamba, Dare Crusade, Civilised
Society?, Hell Bastard, Axegrinder,
Decadence Within, Feed Your
Head, Bedlam, Rest In Pain, Vi-
sions Of Change, Atavistic, Insur-
rection, Doom, Deviated Instinct.
Sore Throat, Revulsion and Dawn
of Liberty. The recording quality
goes up and down, but the effort is
a superior one. Interesting! On
Peaceville, PO Box 17, Dewsbury W
Yorkshire WF12 8AA England U.K...
The older hardcore style is starting
to make a comeback-raw, turbulent,
aggressive, loud and sometimes
snotty. Still, that sound never went
away; it just diversified a bit. Here ►
are two new 7" platters by two young
bands. The first is Big Gulp from
Connecticut, whose seven-song disc
strikes hard with grungy, distorted
guitars punches. These simple com-
positions are tight and well delivered
for such a young band. Reminiscent
of early Adolescents and Wasted
Youth, Big Gulp pushes forth a sound
that has more of a 1980 West Coast
attack sound. This Hard To Swallow
Ep features some classic bits of the
older hardcore sound. The crazed
vocalist reminds me of Cliff Hanger
of The Freeze or Tony Cadena. This
is sure a different release compared
to most of the stuff coming out today.
Write to Big Gulp at 9 Sherman Ct.,
Apt. 1-S, New Britain, CT 06052.
To the south, down Kentucky way,
is a band called Big Deal, that dishes
it out fast and wild. Quick, solid
bursts of angered mayhem charge
roughly and the screaming vocalist
doesn't quit. This Very Mysterious Ep
contains seven tracks which display
a no-holds-barred, early 80s thrash
approach. They have the same sort
of energy as Adrenalin O.D, in their
spurts of speedy ferocity-the two
would make a great double bill. The
compositions are full of insane stop
'n go's and just the right comb-
inations to make this a totally fun Ep.
Another young band making a stab
for your earplay, on Self Destruct
Records. $3.00 from Big Deal, 1207
Girard Dr Louisville, Kentucky 40222.
Okay, Mike at New Beginning fin-
ally got his act together and sent me
the Half Off 12" he had been promis
ing. These Orange County posi-
thrashers serve up vicious slices of
demented speed and rough-arsed
energy. I bet this is one hot combo
live, but on record it falls short. The
highlight of this band is definitely the
guitar work-the raw, gritty tone, the
rapid changes of chords and the
brutal, forceful attack of grinding
power. But when the vocals start, too
much is screamed at once, with no
structural breaks or choruses. Half
Off has the potential, but the vocals
overstay their welcome. The Truth is
the title of this fourteen-song Ep, and
it does have its moments. Maybe with
time this band can formulate a struc-
ture to better incorporate the power
of the music with the thrust of the
vocals. Half Off definitely does sound
a lot better than a lot of bands out
there, though, because the music
rips the hair off your scalp. On New
Beginning Records, PO Box 4461,
Davis, CA, 95617
Those Dutch maniacs, Larm,
really surprized me with their latest,
especially after being totally dis-
appointed by their last release. This
little 7" gem really packs a wallop.
Even though it is uncontrollable
noise, Larm has found a formula-
adding breaks, well placed chants
and choruses and interesting varia-
tions to keep it from being another
blurr. Nothing is Hard in This World
if You Dare to Scale the Heights is the
title and the twelve tracks here really
explode with thick energy and jump-
MHAIA
容:
After nearly suffocating from hours of wearing "The Rat Fink" mask while in the studio recording the new Metallica Lp
"...And Justice For All", Kirk Hammett sheds his favorite latex mask until tomorrow's session. Photo by Pushead.
ing mayhem. The vocals are deep.
The guitars are distorted and piercing.
The bass is burly. The drums are ner-
vous, and the lyrics are sincere,
especially in psychological numbers
like "Shades" Smash and bash.
speed hardcore from Larm. Write to
them at Hessenweg 183, 3792 PE
Achtervelo, Holland, Netherlands.
There's something about the
Japanese thrash attack that roars
with a dominance, and when it's
good, it rages. Hiroshima blasters
Gudon strike out with the goods on
this third release, their first on Selfish.
There is a technique to this sound-
how it rises, how it attacks, how it
never backs off, and how, amid the
mayhem, it holds your attention.
Gudon has improved with each
release. Guitarist Zigyaku creates a
chord barrage blizzard and throws in
accelerating leads for insanity's sake.
Happy's vocals sear outward as he
tonsils the melody down tight. The
drum work is superior, with plenty of
change-ups and quick smashings.
The six songs create a mind bomb
exploding within your cranium. The
Hiroshima scene is growing rapidly,
with plenty of good bands. Zigyaku
and company have seen a parting of
ways, though, so this is the last blast
from Gudon. Zigyaku has formed a
new outfit called Half Years, and this
is definitely a unit to watch for. As for
Gudon, catch this if you can. It's a
fine moment in Japanese speed
thrash. On Selfish Records.
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