Artist: Fukpig
Title: Belief Is The Death Of Intelligence
Type: Album
Label: Feto

If ever there’s a man you probably don’t want to introduce to your prissy puritan aunt, it’s Drunk – he was last seen by this author in a pub trying to rest his scrotum on some unfortunate student’s shoulder – but if you needed a hand in a grind band, you’d definitely want him stage left, ballbag swinging and all. Last seen smashing a guitar to bits at Mistress’ farewell gig last year, Drunk is, along with other ex-Mistress/Anaal Nakrath personnel, still showing a knack for mixing up all sorts of fast aggressiveness into a big stinking lump of thrill.

The first cornerstone of Fukpig, and indeed, any project involving these Brummie reprobates is sense of deep misanthropy and disgust at the at the stupidity of the world we live in – a fact born out by the album title, songs like ‘Britain’s Got Fucking AIDS’ and ‘All Of You Are Cunts And I Hope You Fucking Die’, and the overwhealming conviction with which the riffs are carried off. The first category you could well lump this into is grind. But like contemporary grind, Fukpig draw in additional elements from all over the spectrum to keep things ticking along: opener ‘Die Bastard’ has echoes of the sort of crust punk that was spilling cider back when Wat Tyler was telling his audience to kick the shit out of Jam fans. But along with that formula, there’s also echoes of black metal (‘Mind Attack’), which is symphonic in its own rough-handed way. They even work in a modern thrash (a la Muncipal Waste) style solo on ‘Necessary Heresies’.

But let’s not forget, there’s some fantastic examples of some grind here: ‘Dawn Of The Dumb’, ‘This Is The News’, ‘This Is England’, a trio of songs that exemplify how powerful the genre can be when they inject a little groove into the mix, like Narcosis or the sadly departed Nasum, or even as far back as Discharge, rather than just relying on playing as fast as possible until your fingers fall off. This is what happens when violent talent and focused hatred are combined to devastating effect. And if you order today, Drunk will autograph your copy by slapping his meat potatoes on the CD.

http://www.myspace.com/fukpig13