By No Class
Goodness gracious, Kansas City! Perhaps we all should have realised earlier that the American Midwest sticks out like a sore thumb as a prime candidate for number one breeding ground of turgid punk rock? Separated from the white water scenes of L.A, Boston, New York and Seattle, its inhabitants seem to have congealed together a sound more 'paint thinner' than actual audio. Step forward No Class, peddling a furious adulteration of sure footed, aggravated, mid tempo hardcore. This cassette will pin your bollocks to the wall and slap you about with a nightstick of Negative FX swagger. Imagine a modern day Nig-Hiest without all the blowjob / ejaculate bravado, equipped with a lead vocalist who, for all intents and purposes, sounds like he's brought a throat of boiling nails to the fray.
'Tired. Bored. Angry. Violent' is a degenerative scum-mesh of every irk you've ever felt. 'Finest Hour' - a provocative ham fist of rebellion. No Class do a fantastic job of conveying just how little they sympathise with you, "Your rules don't apply to me" and "No, no the answers fucking no, it's no, again it's no!" being exquisite examples of the aforementioned lack of empathy. This act are a bear-trap of a band, but unquestionably fun to listen to, this 'Tape' cassette is one of my favourite releases I've heard in a long time. Ravaging, unwavering resolution and spite sloshes around in a piss pot of realised angst, along with everything else that made Hardcore Punk great in the first place.