UK first press 1987. Record plays great with minor marks. Sleeve has some edge wear.
Mid-80s New York thrash in all its scrappy, furious glory. Six tracks of breakneck riffs, political rage, and vocals that sound like they were recorded in a fallout shelter. It’s raw, it’s short, it’s angry, and it’ll melt your ears quicker than a dodgy burger van curry.
FFO: Slayer’s twitchy cousin, early Anthrax without the budget, Exodus on cheap lager, and anyone who’s ever tried to stage-dive in the Art College bar.
