<p><span><span>- Sometimes you need a piece of music to bypass your general human enjoyment whilst listening and tap into some primal reaction when it clicks over into something visceral. Any band capable of turning my noggin into a version of Monkey Matt will see repeat listen after repeat listen until I’ve Pavlov Dog’d myself into a hyperactive being of pure energy. Enter: Public Acid. The US crew bashes out a wicked incarnation of d-beat hardcore laced with vocals desperate to have their presence felt as their surrounds try in equal measure to smother them. <em>Condemnation </em>rips through this mortal plane with reckless abandon as it shreds through songs and melts away from itself in a horrifying visage.</span></span></p>
<p><span><span>What we find underneath melted scenery is a well put together project under the façade of a hyperventilating kid verbally spewing storyboard and plotlines from his favourite cartoon punctuated only by breathless “and then…” and beleaguered breathing. <em>Condemnation </em>careens from one savage section to the next. Each section rages along a path all the same in guttural invocations but with wildly varied substance. Shotgun drums wallop at your solar plexus when <em>Nuclear Child </em>declares presence as grime soaked bass worms into the cavity created by its rhythmic partner in crime. It sounds like a <strong>Blood Incantation </strong>song crammed into two minutes with how little it gives a shit about song structure, snowballing into the next section with dogged determination. <em>No Revival </em>tears through sixty-six seconds while showing less reserve than <strong>Marvin Heemeyer </strong>ploughing through Granby way back in day. In stark contrast -and like I mentioned earlier- <em>Electric Plague </em>is a different rivulet of the same deluge. There’s an easy to follow progression: open chugs cannon from a kick drum caused clearing, vocals are now more distinguished than previous appearances. Like <strong>Good Burger, y</strong>ou know some of these words. <em>Electric Plague</em> flows smoothly into the title track through ever-present bleats of exploited feedback. Now a blistering run has a short thrashing course. Halfway through, vocal distortion and manipulation deteriorates on <em>Spoiled By Hate </em>to create intrigue on the way out. As the chainsaw guitars die out after an under-two-minute rip, the closer <em>Flag Fetish </em>brings this release to pass in a similar fashion to how it all started: drum clobbers, bass bangs, and Public Acid thrash with their last breath.</span></span></p>
<p><span><span>All you need is nine minutes, nine minutes of seemingly accidental aural assault flopping from one idea to the next. If you look at it like a monkey brain flip switch, curated chaos hits whatever nerve it is to get some cavemen emotion. From front to back Condemnation slams any and all possible buttons like a room full of primates throwing Shakespearian faecal matter. Put Public Acid in the public drinking water.</span></span></p>
<p><span><span>- Matt Lynch.</span></span></p>
<iframe style="border: 0; width: 100%; height: 120px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=3467359192/size=large/bgcol=f…; seamless><a href="https://beachimpedimentrecords.bandcamp.com/album/condemnation-ep">Cond… EP by Public Acid</a></iframe>