(DL20) - The Septic Psychos - Rotten and Rancid

 Review by: Ox-Fanzine
Hell yeah, England-Punk wie ich ihn liebe. Auf meinen selbst gemachten Samplern dürfen Bands wie THE SEPTIC PSYCHOS nicht fehlen. Die Briten sind eine (Tusch!) reformierte Band, deren Mitglieder in RIOT SQUAD und NO DEAD MEAT ihren Platz fanden, nachdem die Psychos sich schon ’83 wieder auflösten.

Es gibt nichts, was es noch nie gab von der Insel. Keine Überraschungen oder besonders große Hits. Und genau das ist für mich die Faszination, das Besondere an der Art, wie die Engländer Punk leben und spielen.

Es wird nie langweilig, denn ich entdecke immer noch „neue“ Bands, die ich nicht kenne und die das Althergebrachte genauso spielen wie ’82. Auf meinem nächsten Sampler werden ich die Band dort einbetten,wo sie hingehören.

Zwischen THE EJECTED, LAST ROUGH CAUSE und RESISTANCE 77.

Sebastian Walkenhorst

© by Ox-Fanzine / Ausgabe #91 (August/September 2010)

Wertung:


(DL20) - The Septic Psychos - Rotten and Rancid - By FUNGALPUNK

With vague links to Riot Squad and with a similar longevity this was a highly anticipated offering that I predicted could get stranded like a jellyfish or swim strong like a shark. It is a great punk rock ocean out there and minnows are barely tolerated (more fool the punks) even though they have many colours and many relevant bubbles to make. The critical seaweed strangles many hopes and all we can do if we really believe is hack away at the ubiquitous tendrils and free as many punkers as possible provided they are relevant and as punk as fuck. It is always a pleasure to liberate a few fins and watch the survivor swim far – I hope this is such an episode.

We splash in with the turbulent waters that are 'Psycho Vigilante'. A disturbed title with an equally disturbed racket. The intro is orthodox punk ending in tumultuous noise before the real riot starts when all systems are indeed go and a sure-snapping shark creates hell amid the rhythmic fish. At 2 minutes five one hasn't time to settle as aural flesh is torn from the bone with little regard for pleasantries. A well oiled opener that is masterfully outdone by the balls and cock out 'Buy Some Shit'. This whale of a song leaps high and comes down with mighty force drenching the sonic soundscape with a delightful 'fuck you' foam. The content deals with the consumer idiocy that takes over even the most poverty stricken soul thus resulting in purchase after purchase of unnecessary crap. The Septic Psychos tell us how it is with agreeable fury and blaze with disbelief and despair at the buy, buy bonehead mentality. My favourite song of the lot and tickles me barnacles no end. The beak from the octopus shoots forth next with nasty grimness and propels, pauses and scars with furied efficiency. 'Glassed' is a violent burst that deals with that dirty deed so unnecessary. The production has to be spot on and so it is with the band showing an understanding of how to make a noxious punk noise. Of course there are similarities with the Riot Squad outpouring I thoroughly adored when frontman Chiz was at the helm but the SP motorboat cuts its own path and leaves a frothy trail to please. No sooner has this song started then its done and the chugging guitars and gravel bed vocals introduce us to 'Still Haunting Me'. A song that is off the leash and chomping at the aural bathers toes with pirrhanic fervour. Like a thousand carnivores in a feeding frenzy of sound this frightening explosion almost feeds on its own flesh but somehow retains focus and comes out bloated with victorious blood. Ragged and torn one needs respite but will not find it as the crazed 'We Don't Want, We Don't Need' snarls and threatens with alarming menace. Fast, brutal, with no prisoners taken - this fucked up crocodile takes you into a death roll and turns you inside fuckin' out - have it you feeble fucks!

You may imagine I am very excited about this CD so far and as well you might. I love full throttle energy riddled punk and when played this well can only gush with praise. This kind of sonic violence makes me wanna smash my neighbour right in the face even though she's a 60 odd year old dear ha, ha. Love it and onwards we go.

'Worship My Way' slices through your resistance with raw, overpowering punk rock zeal delivered with a wild, wild refusal to get sucked into religion and the sinister threats found therein. Frontman Chiz won't budge and is more than a little tetchy with the subject matter. A good song followed by unrestrained insanity that just has one intention - to cause pain. 'Death Race' scorches the ear drums, lacerates the listener’s sonic skin and whips ones punk chemicals up into a highly volatile concoction. Stand back please this punk fucker is liable to go off at any minute. The 3 quarter way switch of pace is class and takes one into the final blaze with aplomb. As if the situation isn't wonderfully critical these crazy cunts enhance the danger by yelling loudly for 'More Beer'. The formula is simple - thumping drums, surging strings and 'I refuse' vocals demand we all drink more deeply and a racket such of this can hardly be turned down. The stops and starts amid this turbulent tune outline the inner beauty and I am all eyes, ears and supping gob.

'Armchair Activist' ha, ha - we all know one don't we (especially when it comes to being active with punk). Another marbled song as hard as you like with no holds barred. The band are steaming along now and I reckon the tone is set for the rest of the CD. Press the 'Ejector Seat' button now or sit tight and enjoyed this unforgiving journey. I love the opening guitar twists and the rat-a-tat burst that shoots us into submission. Deep bass grumbles and once more we are amidst a seaside brawl. Kicked to fuck, punched drunk with volume and vigour, ripped apart with riffs - this is an uneven beating but pummels in its own style. It thrives when rolling, falters a little when indecisive but fuckin' hell it's only a minor blip. 'Noize Ain't Dead' - do ya need proof - listen to this - review done - end off - full fuckin' stop.

We close with 'I'm Psycho' which is almost confessional. The pocket of pills is emptied and with a mouthful of barbs one should let the head whirr and blur with this closing piece. I say 'closing piece' but fuck that! Just flick the switch and play again....and again....and again. The whole cacophony nearly comes apart at the seams and spills guts all over the swirling floor. Massive moods of malevolent fury throughout - this is how punk should be played.

So after many, many spins I have held myself in check and been somewhat terse to a certain extent but I hope got the point across I am trying to make. This CD is full on, bollock bruising punk rock played by 'erberts who just fuckin' love it. I am currently in the process of trying to get these on a SAS gig which proves my passion for what I have heard on this fine CD. A 100% recommendation and if this ain't for you well we will agree to disagree and I'll stick with the facts!



T-ShirtsSAS ~ 4


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