Impaled Nazarene have made the fine art of not giving a fuck into an artform.
Rawer and slightly more unhinged than 2010’s Road To The Octagon, the Finns’ 12th studio effort seems to celebrate the fact that this band have only ever changed pace to amuse themselves, the core of their sound eternally rooted in the nastiest hardcore punk, the bleakest black metal and an authentic sense that, any minute now, someone is going to get their fucking face smashed in.
Few bands attack their instruments with the level of venom that makes Martial Law and Pathological Hunger For Violence erupt from the speakers like torrents of toxic puke from Satan’s scabby maw, while anyone searching for a new alcoholic anthem need look no further than the bone-shattering thrash of Drink Consultation. Twisted, obnoxious and utterly irresistible.
