Cowards haven’t allowed the continual write/record/tour cycle they’ve been engaged in since forming in 2012 to sap their energetic anger.
In fact, if the oppressive guitar tone, layers of angry criss-crossed voices and stomping boot-rhythms here are any indication, the four-piece emit the sort of pissed-off danger that authoritarian governments would classify as watchlist-worthy.
There’s barely an opportunity to catch your breath as feedback peals grate during those rare moments they pull away from the all-encompassing, discordant backhands of Low Esteem, Birth Of The Sadistic Son’s furious blizzard and just about anywhere else you drop the needle on this uncompromising slice of hate. Cowards may hate writing anything resembling catchy outside of Beyond My Hands’ bastardised Black Sabbath riffs, but you’ll be too busy enjoying the collapsing wall of noise to care.
Via Throatruiner/Rvins
