Throats are not simply a hardcore band any more. Bile, rage and despondency have organically mutated an already bitter and angry band into something far more extreme, reckless and dangerous. Throats have now evolved into a monster that, whilst nodding to their own past, now encompass a sound that embraces elements of Napalm Death, Rotten Sound, crust and d-beat into their stoned, cosmic riffs and breakdowns. From ‘Wake’ lurching into view and audibly cranking up the gears, the grind onslaught of ‘My Hands are Cold’, to the biker metal apocalypse of ‘Oaken/Wait’ this record wastes no time in simply destroying you.
02. My Hands Are Cold
03. Fuck Life
05. Something Low From This Way Comes