Reviewed by: Sebastian Mackay
This is dreadful. The first 37 seconds of “Trash Bed” showed industrial promise. From the 37th second onward it was ear bleeding, brain scraping whinging from an awfully high pitched voice with indistinguishable lyrics. Akin to having a two year old shout into a microphone over unorganized noise (the saving grace is the jazz like bass line that grooves beneath the horror as though it were a shark leaving a bloodied kill).
At track three (“Operate”), I turned it off. I took a break. There’s something oddly colorful about the squeaky synth-like agony that seems to be a favorite of the band. If you were continuously hit in the face by a box of crayons while a toddler screamed into a microphone and Skrillex took acid and made a beat, you’d begin to feel close to what it’s like listening to this.
“Club Kids” brought back the use of the bass line that drove continued cut through the noise. If you’ve ever wanted to be in the mind of Harley Quinn (the Joker’s partner in crime), this is as far as you’ll get. There’s a smattering of lyrics “1,2,3,4/high, high/“ and then it’s gone again into semi deranged and incredibly obnoxious shouting. Make it stop. Please.