From the roller-coaster downward spiral of Hellcircle, through Bubonic’s ear-shattering powerviolence, to 69-second nightmare Brainbleed, there’s nowhere to hide, before nine-minute closer Black Death blots out any last remaining light with a rising tide of apocalyptic doom. Shades of grind pioneers Napalm Death, aggro-tastic U.S. brutalists Nails and the swampy, kaleidoscopic acid-trip imagery of Crowbar bleed through everywhere, and within the churning pestilence and pervasive darkness, Mastiff’s message stands out in big letters: they’re fucked, and we are too.
Verdict: KKKK
Words: Sam Law