Review Summary: it is so nice to wash in blood
Psychosis is really cool. If every human felt the lack of empathy or utter indifference to long term consequence that your average psychotic feels then this earth might not be such a tedious failure of a stinking moist rock. Caring about other people is a trick the brain plays on itself in order to get the rest of the body to combine its genitals with another human and perpetuate this bad species. Inducing psychosis upon oneself is very hard without the help of drugs which are unfortunately quite expensive, but if it was possible to do it aurally, a psychosis doctor would prescribe Brainbombs.
Descend with the kind of smile on your face that somehow just doesn't reach the eyes into the world of degradation, insanity, and horrific gratification that is the world of Brainbombs. A hypothetical idiot might tell you that this is one of those Anal Cunt-esque "heh check out how offensive these guys are" type of bands but tell that person to shut their damn mouth because they are completely wrong. What Brainbombs do is open a window into psychosis, a window through which you will hear the most sinister, foreboding, deranged, grinding, murky riffs that despite everything are still all extremely catchy. Beneath the addictively atonal riffs the drums are given room to do pretty much whatever they like but they always contribute like a willing slave to the dismal, perverse atmosphere, offering the odd fill or whatever to intensify the insanity. The inclusion of trumpet might seem like a bizarre choice but it regularly wanders unannounced into the album to offer its ethereal and disjointed take on whatever is going on, before leaving just as indifferently as it entered. To the uninitiated, the music may seem abrasive or abusive, but just remember that identifying with the aggressor is a way for the ego to defend itself: you will learn to love this you f
ucking slut.
While I pointed out that the lyrics are definitely not the whole deal of the band, they are naturally worth mentioning. Without quoting any in particular because they are all fantastic, let's just say this guy gets up to some pretty rude s
hit. Also, it is important to appreciate the delivery of the frontman; one of slurred madness, endearing incoherency, and righteous misogyny. If Iggy Pop was Dr. Jekyll, this guy would be Mr. Hyde. Even for a band like Brainbombs this album has a nightmarish psychedelic edge to it, and in the veritable epic that is "Right Side of Hell" there is even a hint of lucid remorse in the lyrics, but soon the album progresses and he is back to considering the faculties of F
uckmurder or whatever.
So put your pre-conditioned emotions aside for a little while and embrace the truth of psychosis. Dominate. Rape. Kill. Listen to Brainbombs.
