This song is like Killing Joke on controlled speed. I know. Whoa! I love this entire album's works but this song screams all the angst I have left over from a time of awesome music that I thought I'd never hear again new. It's really slick in production. This is the kind of music that I've been waiting for. I haven't heard one Cocksure tune that I didn't want to keep listening to.
Favorite track: Guilt, Speed & Carbon.
Christopher J. Connelly and Jason C. Novak bridge the gap between waxtrax! era industrial and the future sounds of mass corruption.
THE SOUND: huge air-craft hangar size mechanized rhythms and bone-crushing, limb-severing noises that stretch from 2014 all the way back to 1985, long, endurance testing, panic-attack hit songs that you can drive around at night to, sweating dry-ice and smoking your chemical-weapon blunts.
THE WORDS: shockingly infantile, irreverent & irrelevant, riot inciting, anger inducing, anti-social, unashamedly un-p.c. , paranoid, narcissistic bullshit, barked and howled by someone who you think would have learned his fucking lesson by now.
THE PERPS: COCKSURE-the bastard that once was “REVCO” deformed and dug up, re-animated and re-branded by CHRIS CONNELLY and JASON NOVAK .”Unfinished bizness” mutters Chris under his breath with a chuckle, then politely folding his arms and crossing his legs he whispers softly: “We’ll show these pussy-ass motherfuckers how it’s really done” adding with a serene smile “we’ll tell these ageing dinosaur fuckwads where to stick their dicks”
THE CHARGES: car jacking, drug dealing, pyromania (adoration of), credit card fraud, brawling, shoplifting & petty theft, chronic serial infidelity, slutism, weapon smuggling, online porn addiction, drinking binges, coke binges, speed binges, binge binges, auto theft, porn skyping, messianic behavior, trans gender hookers (pathetic attempts to “engage” with) hookers (pathetic attempts to “engage” with), solvent abuse, and botched plastic surgery (laughing at the expense of).
THE OUTCRY: “these people are despicable, truly society’s day-old used q-tips, we thought we were DONE with this childish self obsessed crap and we were safely tucked away in middle age doing respectable soundtracks or appearing in the reality shows of the poorly-tatooed: but NO! these HALFWITS are here to PICK us up by the scruffs of our necks and drop us like used condoms on the dancefloor .SHUT DOWN THE CLUBS!! RUN THAT D.J. OUT OF TOWN & HURRY BACK TO YOUR SAFE POP/PUNK PANIC ROOM!