Bruise Control: Bruise Control
(Republic Of Music)
Vinyl | CD | DL available at Sister Ray
Released 20 February
4.0 out of 5.0 stars
No strangers to the DIY punk scene, Bruise Control return with new material to blast away the cobwebs of January with an all balls out EP of their trademark punk that’s as vital as ever. Wayne AF Carey ramps up the volume…
Not known for fucking about, Bruise Control went from strength to strength last year, from performing a slayer of an early set at Rebellion on the main stage which I witnessed, a hangover curing 12pm set at Rockaway Beach (according to our man Iain Key) and now a new EP released on ROM which never lets up from the start.
Lulling you into a false sense of security Be Like You starts with a pleasant acoustic guitar strum before Jim bursts in with a scream like a sphincter after downing a Carolina Reaper, backed by the excellent dynamics of his crazy crew. Gone To Ground burst straight in, a no nonsense punk number straight from the seventies punk era leaping into the 80’s/90’s hardcore days. A simple but effective riff gliding with the bass and drums into a no nonsense slab of noise. If You’re Not Mine goes for the jugular like a big off canular jabbed in your neck. A fast and furious ride into a mudslide of slippy hardcore and a bizarre bit of harmony. Sweet as fuck.
Jumping Ship slows down the pace, if you can call it that, with Jim trying to sing over a heavy riff and bass and drum combo that sounds dirty as fuck with a neat little chorus that’s ripe for the mosh pits. A tight bastard with bollocks. Left behind comes from behind with a plastic over your head, popped with a pin to let you gasp for air after scrambling for breath at the hundred mile an hour punk pace that slows down for a clever bit of simple bass and a cheesy riff that’s surely taking the piss. A head cracker of a tune. Spinners Mill continues with another assault to the noggin, they just don’t let up with the power and knowledge they’ve inherited from the old school of thrilling hardcore.
Punk isn’t dead, it’s just been living on a rusty safety pin that’s been swabbed for DNA and ingested by Jim, Niall, Ru and Tommy to bring us all forward into a new era of joyful hardcore.
Forewords by Wayne Carey, Reviews Editor for Louder Than War. His author profile is here
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