<p><span><span>- In 1969, a little-known band from New York dropped an album that could be argued to have foreshadowed black metal, noise, and industrial music. The album’s deceptively psychedelic cover matched their Woodstock contemporaries, but sonically, the brutal, experimental sound of <strong>Cromagnon</strong>’s <em>Orgasm</em> couldn’t have been more counter-culture if it tried. The band paid a number of homeless folks that frequented the neighbourhood around the recording studio to bang objects as loud as they could, recordings that formed the basis for the record.</span></span></p>
<p><span><span>Sydney punk outfit Oily Boys’ debut LP, <em>Cro Memory Grin</em>, shares an atavistic appeal with the work of Cromagnon, except in Oily Boys’ case, the talking point is the primal, unbridled rage, rather than primitive sonic exploration. Coming through with brutal, face-melting instrumentals that <strong>Converge</strong> would be proud of and scorching vocals that channel the fury of radical, political, post-Soviet poet and songwriter <strong>Egor Letov</strong>, <em>Cro Memory Grin</em> is one of the best debut albums in recent memory.</span></span></p>
<p><span><span>The record grips you immediately with the turbocharged opening tracks <em>Given</em><strong> </strong>and <em>Headstone</em><strong> </strong>providing two immediate highlights. The pulsating drumming creates an abyssal wall of sound. Many of the shorter cuts on the record recall the searing and relentless ferocity of hardcore acts like <strong>Void </strong>or <strong>Urban Waste</strong>. Meanwhile, the track <em>Heat Harmony</em> intersperses this raw aggression with more melodious guitar riffs, with the sound being more comparable to a band like <strong>Poison Idea</strong>. The vigilante justice war cry, <em>Stick Him</em><strong>, </strong>features a memorable performance from vocalist <strong>Drew Bennett</strong>, as he bellows: “<em>Stick him / stick him like the snake he is</em>”. </span></span></p>
<p><span><span>The album ends on a bit of self-reflection with the epic eight-minute closer <em>GTrance</em> as Bennet quite transparently questions who and what he is. Despite the track’s run-length, there’s no build, nor any reprieve, just non-stop, gruelling intensity. In a chaotic release Bennett cries: “<em>I run and I run / but I never get away / I can’t get away / Maybe I don’t want to</em>” as he’s consumed by his own brain. It’s not only a fitting way to end the album in the current political and social climate, but also in the sense that by this point, I had been well and truly consumed by this band. Yet, despite how exhausting an experience actually sitting down and listening to <em>Cro Memory Grin</em><strong> </strong>is,<strong> </strong>it has serious replayability, with each track meticulously crafted and leaving so much to be unpacked within; it's a trope admittedly not generally associated with hardcore music.</span></span></p>
<p><span><span>I’ve had to reach pretty far for some of the comparisons I’ve made in this review, but truth be told, it’s actually hard to recall many hardcore albums that pack together such inarguable chemistry and unhinged rage into a record this good. With six years between this and the band’s previous release, this record is clearly the product of ages spent jamming together, perfecting the Oily Boys sound. Accordingly the band’s synergy is pretty damn impressive for a debut full-length. <em>Cro Memory Grin</em> is a masterpiece of fury, offering anthems of angst for all of us that have been left pretty disenfranchised since Oily Boys last released music.</span></span></p>
<p><span><span>- Jack Jones.</span></span></p>
<iframe style="border: 0; width: 100%; height: 120px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=503624663/size=large/bgcol=ff…; seamless><a href="http://oilyboys.bandcamp.com/album/cro-memory-grin">Cro Memory Grin by Oily Boys</a></iframe>