I.N.C. razorback (1987)

I.N.C. (Indestructible Noise Command), hailing from Fairfield, Connecticut.

I'll never go to THAT hospital again. They'll let ANYBODY be a Doctor these days. This particular example of The Sacred Thrash is moderate at best. The recording is pretty poor and the vocals sound like a test track, and the emergency room sounds DELICIOUS and the songs are written sloppily and performed even sloppier. I think that the allegory of the Corporation (I.N.C.?) wheeling you around a hospital as a crazed, I'm thinking amphibian? mutant orderly is pretty far-fetched. I mean, when has that ever happened? I don't get what they're trying to say. Also, hey guys, at least get, like, an 8th-grader to draw some kind of insignia or emblem, instead of that cheap, regular old one; Whiplash did it. To sum up, I don't think they had the budget. But they did have the RAZORBACK!




NUMBER 8

EVILDEAD annihilation of civilization (1989)

Evildead, hailing from Los Angeles, California.

This is one of the bands which form the basis for the fun-loving, graffitti-the-planet resurgence of Thrash and Crossover that has exploded in the past couple years. You'll really want to add this to your collection for a number of excellent reasons. Let me describe.

The Thrash is Sacred, the shredding is mostly untouchable, the vocals are pissed but who-cares, and the last song is called B.O.H.I.C.A., and that stands for 'Bend Over, Here It Comes Again'. The old dude, probably called Ed (my personal favorite Thrash mascot, even above ol' Vic Rattlehead) has a Club Dead towel and Club Dead soda cup; the air is polluted beyond cleansing by factories in the distance; there are jets; there are three skulls on the icon; there are toxic waste barrels carelessly splayed before the beachgoers; the beachgoers are crackling and mutating openly;

Why wait?




NUMBER 7