Weekend Nachos
Worthless
Relapse Records
*FIST PUMP* actually brilliant. With a cover that looks like it was created by post-rock 101 and a name that would suit a Bloodhound Gang-covers band, Weekend Nachos are somewhat of a curveball when it comes to musical appearances. A great wrong-footer; because this onslaught of crust-punk meets grind is a furious rush of pure fucking aggression and steely determination. Weekend Nachos kind of remind me of Insect Warfare – there’s that low end hum of filth-ridden determination, weighed down my muddy vocal shouts and scatter-gun guitar roars. For the most part, it’s not trying to be clever in anyway; completely free of pretension, but obviously loaded with a heavy degree of sarcasm and backslapping stupidity.
It’s fairly dense as well; ‘You Could Exist Tomorrow’ may only be 59 seconds long, but it takes some listening; the stop start rhythms, not to mention the complete wall of noise created by the bass and the scrunched up voice-box growls all make it quite an impenetrable barrier of sound. ‘Hometown Hero’ opens the record and it’s as if Give Up The Ghost never split up; mixing thrash-hardcore punk into an exciting volatile blender. ‘Black Earth’ is more Hope Conspiracy falling into some crust-grind hell, whilst ‘Old Friends Don’t Mean Shit’ is an Agoraphobic Nosebleed-thrash worthy speed that ends with a nice crushing breakdown of head-banging proportions. It’s proper bro-core; dudes with shaven heads high-fiving each other in the pit then jumping off speaker-stacks – fuck no to the rules man, this is where it’s at. ‘Jock Powerviolence’ splits the vocal grunt from gruff bulldog-slavering, to almost hardcore-rap, backed by stocky, unrelenting sludge-punk dirges of sound.
It’s furious, it’s pissed – Weekend Nachos may sound like a barrel of laughs, but their music falls between the sides of an almost Harvey Milk-esque depressing scrawl and the blistering energy of an early Wes Eisold hardcore project – complete chaos.
Buy the album from Amazon
Review by Ross Macdonald
