After this year’s exhilarating-as-ever Dean Lane Hardcore Day, I headed to the Chelsea Inn for the after show. It was there, while sat in the beer garden basking in the punk-Christmas-ness of it all, that someone sat next to me, in the process plonking an open box of merch between us.
Without realising, they’d presented me with my absolutely favourite way to buy merch. When running the PCDM project in the early 2000’s, I always encouraged bands to go out into the crowd with merch and engage the clientele instead of sit behind a table waiting for people to come to them; it always paid dividends.
It turned out the band, AGGROCULTURE (formerly MENTHOL LUNGS), had unfortunately had to pull out of the night’s gig. Nonetheless, this did not deter me from buying something given it was right there next to me; and in the true punk-Christmas spirit of it all, I drunkenly bartered the band up from the asking price for a CD and patch.
scrumpydrinking thrashcore gimps is the band’s third album, though first under the new AGGROCULTURE moniker, and the physical CD is quite the package: punk DIY to the core, the lyric insert full of character for it.
Unfortunately (or perhaps better, typically) for me, when sticking the CD in a player, nothing happened; I’d managed to get the one disc that hadn’t had the music burned onto it!
Over on bandcamp, I found scrumpydrinking thrashcore gimps available NYP. Problem solved, so why mention it? Well, in this process my easily distracted brain became exactly that and by the time I’d downloaded and hit play, my main attention had been drawn to something else, meaning I completely forgot who and what I was listening to beyond it was new and on the brutal side of the music spectrum.
A few minutes later I was stopped in my tracks as my focus got hijacked again; this time with the question: what exactly am I listening to? all of a sudden it sounds a lot like [hard/stoner/blues rock legends] Clutch in their more mellow moments!
True, it’s only at a couple of points that the comparison appears, but yes; even when going back for a full attention listen there is in places something very Dan Maines in the sound of the bass; and its presence is indicative of the intricacies found in all respects across an album that remains utterly powerviolence to the core.
Across its ten glorious tracks scrumpydrinking thrashcore gimps is a frenetic, rampant, riotous wall of bristling energy; and that could be said about the vocals alone. Utterly pummelling in places, it never loses the depth of character and high quality composition making it such a cracking and compelling listen. Along with the stoner there are moments drenched in absolute sludge. Either way they’re miraculously fitted into the mere couple of minutes songs that are in essence exhilarating cohesions in chaos of the circle-pit-heaven kind. It rolls with relentless crushing swagger; the searing rawness phenomenal for how conversely accomplished: precise, intended – a pure powerviolence fury.
Lyrics contain incredible power of passion, ranging from deadly serious subjects such as the abominable actions of Israel onto hilarious takes on smoking and what a ski trip might entail; words are sharp, on point and thoroughly engaging throughout, all while being as West Country bumpkin as fuck:
Where am I to? Not my yard
Cut more lines with my card
Life out here can’t be that hard
I’m gonna make it outta Chard— AGGROCULTURE ‘Ski Trip’
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