There’s only one rule, man, and that you gotta be cool to be cool. And there’s nothing cooler than Cool Death Records. They’ve got the best punk roster going round, a bonafide bulletproof list of the best bands to shred a stage. Amongst the ranks are Dribble, Soma Coma, Gutter Gods, Leather Lickers and Velvet Whip. But it’s Power that really punches through vital organs and emerges through your back with a bloody spleen in hand. And as they rightfully fucking should: this band is incredible. In. Fucking. Credible. Better than Netflix. Better than 4/20. Better than a Best of Gary Busey compilation.
Power are a supreme force, a blinding hail of guitar that ricochets around your skull like a ball trapped in a possessed pinball machine. It’s The Stooges meets Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments meets Golden Pelicans, riffs blazing a trail of fiery punk attitude that suckles at a demon’s teet. The howls implemented here are cackles ripped from a forgotten time, and the pounding fury of “Slimy’s Chains” is both biblical and terrifying.