Diet Of Worms Vinyl

What039s the point of the howl of string to speaker, the hammering of stickon skin Is it transcendence, elevating the human spirit by catharsis in sound Or is it summoning chaos, a purgatory in which to bask in all thats unclean, the better to feel aliveWhy not both Because thats whats on offer on Diet Of Worms, the second Rocket release by The Shits, Leeds via Newcastles titans of disgust and deliverance. This is a feast for the senses in the worst way possible primal rock boiled down to its essence and flung full in your face. Using repetition, tortured vocal invective and headsdown intensity as blunt instruments, these eight tracks are an unprecedented torrent of acidic salvation. Whilst lurking somewhere on the decadencedestruction axis between the nihilism of prime Stooges and the bloody blackout of Braimbombs, Diet Of Worms is possessed of a legitimately uncompromising hostility that both elevates and debases it to coordinates unknown.There are revelations here in the riffage and the rancour, even if they are the kind that occur in the bleary miasma of the lockin, or witnessing the streetlight blur of the subsequent stagger home. Even more singleminded and remorseless than the bands Rocket debut Youre A Mess, this is a record that demands full immersion. Whether its Then Youre Dead hammering on a pulverising garagestinking riff until it begs for mercy, or Change My Ways, whose CreedenceInHell swagger and lurch is that of abjection transmuted into joy, this is psychedelia forcibly removed from its comfort zone of pastiche, and thrust into a badtrip realm of the vivid and nightmarish.But rarely has the process of making beauty and horror indivisible seemed like so much fun. If Werner Herzog was right, and the only harmony in the universe is that of overwhelming and collective murder, then The Shits are the true music of the spheres.