Call me demented, but I just can’t say a bad thing about any band that names a song “Twenty-Three Lubed Up Schizophrenics With Delusions of Grandeur.” And the best part is, that ain’t even the coolest song title on Plague Soundscapes [Anti/Epitaph] by The Locust!
To call the album spaz-core would be comparable to calling Kenny G. sort of lame. With 23 songs clocking in at a retarded 21 minutes, this orgy of chaos blends hardcore, deathcore, space-techno and anything else computers will allow. Hardly any sound or pattern lasts longer than 10 seconds, switching gears the way Kelly Osbourne wriggles into a pair of jeans – violently and nearly snapping at the seams.
If you thought the Blood Brothers were a bit much to handle, for fuck’s sake, stay away from The Locust. This is for the truly troubled music fans that yearn for more brutality in less time, but done in true fashion with musical credibility. Kinda like saying “that beheading was in poor taste. It could have been so much more professional.” But anyone with an eclectic hunkering will know just what I mean.
Look past the tight-ass bug jumpsuits – they’re no gimmick.
The best song title, you ask? I’m split between “Anything Jesus Does I Can Do Better,” “The Half-Eaten Sausage Would Like to See You In His Office” and “Solar Panel Asses.” But buy this album immediately and pick for yourself.