"Last City Zero"

By Octopi Mills

The fellows from Eyehategod, Neurosis, Yakuza, and Minsk have gotten together in one way or another to bring you Corrections House. It runs something like a mish mash of some of the aforementioned music, with a very digital sound containing some mechanical parts therein. A casserole, if you would, with wires and electronic chip boards. There is a certain vibe i am given of distrust and it makes me paranoid, as if it is the sound of a police state and rioting. Guns, helicopters, shattered glass, and sirens are what is conjured up in my old molded mind; a sign of the times and of the modern, urban social decay.

There is experimentation that seems psychiatric at times, and somewhat hallucinogenic, as if one is witnessing brainwaves manipulated by men with nothing better to do with their time but enslave your mind, and this is where it takes it to a hostage situation. A city under martial law is the feeling perceived, and there is anger and violence. "RunThrough The Night" sounds like someone fleeing a crime scene and is complete with tv show city music. The vocals come in like some old Nick Cave crooning, and a man bays at the moon like a horsewhipped dog who has self medicated, and it all is swallowed by a wave of guitars that swarm like wasps. There are some poetic moments in the lyrics, and with titles like "Dirt Poor and Mentally Ill" it seems to perhaps even carry a strong Mike Williams feel, and he is one who penned a song title once called "Sister fucker", so the old shit-house poetry is somewhat still there near the dark wall urinal someone has used to do something other than urinate therein. There is a speech like feel to the song in the middle, and I can see rats overun gutters as broken, wanting men raid pharmacies.

The slow fires of war burn in the music, and filthy prison cell conditions with disease make for a claustrophobic listen. Used syringes litter my infantile thought processes and lay there in pools like disposable modern culture icons of pop culture and neon signs promising sale. There is some good modern spoken word play going on in the album that appeals to the common man and the lower class, and they are words of revolution and despair, making them weigh heavier and more genuine. This makes the album a better experience, I would say, and somewhat an American one at that. "Drapes Hung By Jesus" stains the skyline with piss yellow in the mind, and says it all as it pounds like early Godflesh in its honesty. I am reminded of a jail cell and a puke stained mattress as it unfolds like a drawling, slow hate crime in the speakers The project comes off like a fighting boxer from a long lost ghetto who hasn't slept for the big fight, and opts to bring a pistol to the show like a suicide cowboy whose time is up. A soundtrack for society has never sounded so true. The collapse is imminent, I say to you now .