S.H.I.T. - Generation S.H.I.T. 7"

The second 7" from Toronto's S.H.I.T., nailing down their place as one of 2014 hardcore's brightest burning fires. Four tracks of death and alienation, vacant scrapings gathered, soldered, shone up into a whirring fury of modern existence, with shivers of Gauze, Inmates, Gudon and the like. The war whip of Eraser II, the blankness of distanced violence ("HUMAN TERROR/COLD TECHNOLOGY/GOD'S OWN POWER/AT TERMINAL VELOCITY") brought home, close and smoldering. Fuck All a frustrated bite, the vocals a deep bloodied sneer, "OBLIVIOUS INCOMPETENT BELIEF/FESTER IN THE PRIDE OF THE NAIVE". Mockery 1-2 beat and shivering guitar butting into a simplistic jabbing punk fragment. Generation Shit's guitar scribble, constant clatter and smeared out thrum comprising a scuttering anthem of blossoming anger. "THEY ARE THE NEW WASTE/THE DISPOSABLE YOUTH/A GENERATION OF SHIT/NO FUTURE FOR YOU" it rips in a dragged apart bawl. Angry beyond measure, scoured and shaped into a fierce nihilistic violence. "NAPALM THE KIDS"

S.H.I.T. - Collective Unconsciousness EP

Rushing reaping hardcore punk from Toronto's S.H.I.T., ready to rearrange face and brains, fit for blowing up rooms. Vocals dragged roughly out of throats and echoing away with the dynamo pace, retching over the collision of body and society, mind and matters, writhing and snatching clumsily in flat bursts of alienation, sex negative. Pressing onwards, crashing forwards. S.H.I.T. lay down four punk rippers, exigent, rowdy. Collective Unconsciousness wails on the blankness "SEDATED SOCIETY/APATHETIC INSANITY/SEDATED SOCIETY/CATATONIC REALITY", Masochism is power structures of bedrooms splayed out in the social sprawl, the political game, gimps and kinksters all, whips and taxes and corruption in every corner, and we take it. "POWER IS THEIR PLEASURE AND PAIN IS DIVINE/YOU CARRY THE WHIP AS IT EATS YOUR HIDE". Nobody Knows Anybody slams at the barriers between and on The Stimulator, S.H.I.T. get physical, crawling with desire, stamping out a minute of lust in the guitar churn "I NEED SENATION/I NEED A CHEMICAL REACTION/INFECTIOUS CRAVING STIMULATION" disgusted with both its wants and its inability to channel, process, said wants. There's a lot of creeping grief in the world, a lot of uncomfortably empty spaces and formless evil shit waiting to fill in the gaps, S.H.I.T. see that. S.H.I.T. show it off. S.H.I.T. body it.