It’s impossible to read a band and song like this, and resist the temptation to listen to them. It’s like Willie Nelson saying no to weed.
However, instead of the black metal people probably expected, we’re treated to some vixen synth-punk, like The Dead Weather being cradled by Chrome. Looming clouds of synth work shrouds a biting monologue that devolves into warring noise factions. You come in expecting brutality, you leave with some mild genius.