Swarf Damage – S/T (Self)

Thirty seconds in and I began to panic, and thought I’d been caught in some sort of chronal tractor beam and sucked back to Ruthies Inn in 1987, as the pure savagery of the crossed over, thrashed out mayhem that Swarf Damage whip up could have come straight out of the Bay Area in the latter half of the golden age of thrash . These slam obsessed maniacs play pure, unadulterated retro crossover that worships at the altar of Game Over era Nuclear Assault and Sacrilege BC circa Party With God, with a smattering of Artillery around the time they released Terror Squad and R.D.P. just before they unleashed Brasil on the world thrown in for good measure,

It’s simple. If you know that pits should always travel counter clockwise, have dived off more than your fair share of stages and PA stacks and believe that fashion began and ended with converse, tighter than tight jeans, cut off denim and leather jackets and still thrash harder than a dominatrix on an amphetamine bender, then you are going to worship this band, and rightly so. Be like Swarf Damage. Thrash fast, thrash well… Tim Cundle

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