What
didn't I buy from Wild Rags? Grinding Dutch death with the occasional humorous microsong, and a drum machine named Peter (great job Petey). The recording feels 4-tracky, as it has the bassy compression and economical mixing inherent to that technology, but it's produced very well for this perceived limitation and is actually quite heavy. Vocals are deeply hoarse gurgles, where instead of lyrics all you hear being gagged out is "BLUH! BLUH! BLUUUHHH!!!". They're fuckin' ridiculous, but I couldn't picture them being delivered any other way. 8 songs, 13 minutes, so obscure they have no cult...