So are you just going to live your life like a rat in a maze? Eat the corn starch your parents feed you and sit in front of an iPad until your old enough to be shipped off to an institution where you get a minimal level of socialization, learn to follow directions without questioning them, and maybe even pick up a skill or two that some vampire king might find useful later. Then after a decade or more of this kind of conditioning, hopefully, one of those vampires mentioned above will hire you. If not, it's ok. You'll just die. But if you do, oh boy! That means you get to live! And then you get to let those son-of-a-bitch vampires drain the life from you for the next half-century, while you drink liquid wheat, eat more corn starch and get outraged over things you read through online. Maybe in your spare time, you can find someone to make a smaller version of yourself with, and then you can all share this terrible fate together. This can be the sad tale of your rat-trap life if you want it to be. Or you can choose to live like a human being. Maybe you go through a lot of the same motions for a time, but your conscious mind should always be looking for an exit. Maybe you discover that you can burrow through the walls of the maze and make a den for yourself, out of sight of the vampires and maze overseers. Or maybe you choose to band together with other rats, swarm the vampires and overseers, ripping out their eyes, gnawing off their fingers and toes, and establish a free rat republic where there was once there only a cruel hoax. Whatever you decide, I'd recommend listening to Krigshoder debut EP,
Kig I Hodet, while you sort out your plan of attack. A hemisphere spanning conspiracy, stretching from LA to Norway, Krigshoder spews a boiling, Anticimex-esque slurry of crust and early '80s inspired hardcore, that will melt pavement, corrode siding, and generally make nice, neatly gentrified neighborhoods in an inner-city near you next to uninhabitable. "Ditt Eget Stalingrad / Hatet" feels like a recently tared and persecuted Circle Jerks, on the run from a mob of "concerned" citizens, on the verge of transforming into a werewolf and turning the table of the chase, from a bid for survival, into an outright blood bath. "Kalde Kropper" sputters and builds, threatening to breakdown, but without fail somehow finding the gumption leap into the next verse. "Ett liv i Karantene" has a deadly, skating quality, like you've been bungeed to a longboard and sent careening downhill and through a busy, downtown intersection. "Kaos & Depresjon" will shake up your nerves, but only as a warm-up session for the rattling, breathless rant and rip of the exhaustive southward plummet of "Aktiv Dødshjelp," which sounds like something GBH would have written back in the 80s had they not merely been contemporaries, but also devotees, of Discharge. Lastly, the closer "Døde Helter" (a Siste Dagers Helvete cover off their 1984 album
The Hell) indulges in some classic, dog-pile, shout vocals, over a blitz of feverish fastcore chords. Until you figure out the shape of the Revolution, let Krigshoder be the soundtrack to your alienation's dissolution.
Grab a copy of
Krig I Hodet from Suck Blood
here.
