There’s very little that’s tropical concerning Tropical Trash, keener using razor-blade repetition to cut off excess weight of permanent vacationers. Fear of Suffering is lean muscle and bone. A-side “Baltimore” is locked in step with minimalist punks, sharp drums breaking through a repeating motif just a hair shy of angry. Perturbed? Bothered? It doesn’t matter — “Baltimore” borrows its rumbling pit from the city that lends its name. No Omar, but plenty of Snoop cool. “False Crypt” is where Tropical Trash showcases their cutting edge, slicing away fake palm trees to maim lazy Sandals clients. The compact punches to the face and stomach, the quick cuts from the blade unnoticeable in nimble follow-up “Pentagram Ring Finger” and furious screamer “Rawmind and Burning Ghost.” The only jungle terrain of Tropical Trash is that which can be smothered in a healthy dose of Agent Orange. Pressed on a traditional, all-white 78 so you can have recalls of punk’s beginnings without having ever been.
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