That spray painted finish on the outside feels like sandpaper stained in groovy splatter stencilling; inside is packed with the usual Placenta goodness. Six tracks full of fisted guitar rhythms cut up with generous amounts of feedback / effect squawk. With the exception of one track, the vocals are more buried on this particular outing, serving as out of focus rants barbecued by scarred pick-ups. That Dada funk sensibility coming out of the speakers is just fab, re-inventing melody with trash can lids, bass vibro judder and some really tasty Hendrix crayoning, full of zig-zagged angles that get me contorting nicely.
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