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Grime: Grime

Album Review

Toxic sludge from the northern Italian coast

Just one look at the self-titled mini-album from Grime is likely to let you know where you’re headed. Songtitles like Self Contempt and Born Sick coupled with spoon and needle artwork are fair pointers to the mellow-harshing that lies ahead.

The truth is, Italy’s Grime couldn’t have picked a better name for themselves. That they came together over a shared love of Eyehategod and Buzzov.en makes perfect sense, and their filthy crust-covered sludge also owes more than a slow-motion nod to Iron Monkey, both in its crawling, doomed riffing and harsh guttural vocals.

The superfuzz guitars are so low as to be subterranean, grinding out riffs that may not be the most memorable but are so gargantuan they induce the kind of grimacing, nodding headbanging only the truly malevolent sludge can. Closing track Wifebeater is so aggro and stoned it needs to have a sit-down, a good cuppa and a family bag of Doritos.

If you’re planning a night of bong ripping take note, that this is not chill-out music at all.

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