Album Review: Mastiff – Plague
The English Mastiff is a gentle giant of the canine world, known for its calm demeanour and gentle, loving nature. Not these Hull miserabilists, however. Picking up where 2017’s Bork EP left off, Plague explodes like a grind-sludge Molotov cocktail; its vision of humanity as disease burning with fury, anguish and frustration.
From the roller-coaster downward spiral of Hellcircle, through Bubonic’s ear-shattering powerviolence, to 69-second nightmare Brainbleed, there’s nowhere to hide, before nine-minute closer Black Death blots out any last remaining light with a rising tide of apocalyptic doom. Shades of grind pioneers Napalm Death, aggro-tastic U.S. brutalists Nails and the swampy, kaleidoscopic acid-trip imagery of Crowbar bleed through everywhere, and within the churning pestilence and pervasive darkness, Mastiff’s message stands out in big letters: they’re fucked, and we are too.
Words: Sam Law
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