On Dead, only the second Rusted Shut full-length in the Houston group's two-decades-and-change existence, noisy plutonium punk-metal remains the burnt main course. Often, this heavy outpouring of vitroil seems to consist of three unequal components: singer Don Walsh's anti-social/anti-societal, distainful diatribes, drummer Domokos Benczedi's relentless thrash and a roiling tidal wave of enmeshed, visceral riffage courtesy of Walsh and bassists Sibyl Chance, Richee Glezman and Shawn Kelly. The fearsome result is perpetually on the verge of annihilating everything and everyone it encounters. The cumulative effect is the sense of feeling ground to pulp in a sonic grist mill, an antagonist in Walsh's psychodramas brought to bloody heel: stalling-engine guitars chugging under the hood of "Heart of Hell" ("I'm on the road to Hell/ You're on the road to Hell"), spiteful homily "Addiction" forcing its gears together with such fury that it's a wonder the song even breathes, albeit with toxic crack-pipe breath. "America into head-on wreck!" Walsh incants early on. It's clear he relishes the carnage, smoke and twisted metal; his maniacal glee is as palpable as it is infectious. Get sick. Believe it or not, you can buy Dead - out today - on amazon.com here.
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