Fucking fuckity fuck. Ten tracks of aural depravity, monstrously brutal and on hyperspeed. Kind of like structured chaos. Meaning it's not just metal in a Cuisinart, almost but not quite. There's a bit of backbone to the tornado, revisiting riffs and tempos, not just banging and strumming and screaming for the sake of banging and strumming and screaming.

The music rips... five violent Swedes putting music to ferocity. Singer Stefan Lundberg's pharynx WILL explode one day, drummer Joakim Unger will put out an eye with the flying shards of broken drum sticks, and bassists and guitarists Joel Andersson, Johan W Ohlsson and Robert Tyborn Axt, respectively, will lose overworked digits to over-vibrating wound steel strings. Or bad karma. Or both. And then they'll write a song about it.

Honestly, the lyrics here make me nauseous. Ass-rape, razors and rape, pits of molested gore and the topper "Supreme Bukkake". The first ode to Bukkake that I've ever come across. And hopefully the last.

"Choke as the stench of bukkake starts drenching the room, The fall of innocence, visions of purity, Cum is your penalty supreme, Weep as the glass of bukkake starts kissing your lips, Recession of purity, Depraved of dignity, Cum is your penalty sumpreme"

See what I mean? If that doesn't give you a disturbing visual that makes you want to wretch, I'm calling the cops.

Bottom line, music great. Lyrics depraved. Partake at your own risk.