The raging dirge of Los Angeles wrecking crew Whip Hand’s Carnal Sect release rings as true as any punk rock released in the last decade possibly can. No pop pretensions, no fancy haircuts (look, these are things I can just tell), and no heartbreak. This is raw anger, unfiltered by any drive other than to swing your arms like an asshole and break whatever gets in the way.
“Worn Throats” comes out of the gate with a fervor that brings to mind the absolutely amazing Full of Hell while also aping “EP’s”-era Peni. There’s nothing subtle about the maybe-a-few-more-but-not-many-more-than-four chord attack on display, and the tension and speed don’t let up through “Temple Mounts” acid-splash insanity or “Slow Electrocution”. “Convalesce” is a croaked ode to medically-induced paranoia, layers of feedback and guitars slashing at the listener’s throat while the vocals crawl along.
Pick up Carnal Sect HERE via Not Punk Records!
Let’s stop and talk about these vocals for a second. From the very opening, they thread a fine line between J. Bannon’s shrieked insanity and the mid-range, bulged-eye holler of a street preacher. They are absolutely entrancing in their intensity and almost monotonously hypnotizing, never sinking or wavering.
I’m a sucker for production, and even for a punk record this recording is no slouch. Recorded by L.A. engineer Erol Ulug and ever-so-subtly washed with reverb, the warm and sometimes empty sound has just the right amount of sheen to polish up the blood-soaked speedball that is Carnal Sect. From the very first feedback blast through the last shriek, this album gets me ready for a circle pit.
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