twistedrealm of punks and heshers, miserably coexisting only to producesome of the most fantastic and brutal music from Ol' Blighty. I imagine everything in this hell to be drenched in stale beer and vomit, covered in permadirt and rubbed-in cigarette ash, and sounding like it was born in the digestive tract of some mutated Satanic gutter rat.
Fukpig's Spewings From a Selfish Nation is the embodiment of that world. This is Napalm Death, Anaal Nathrakh (including members of), and Tragedy brewed together into a potent draught of pure fucking hate. Genres are straddled like a nightmarish warhorse and then ridden straight through your miserable little skull. This is crusty, grinding, blackened metal armageddon with screaming leads and crushing chugs.
Perhaps this record resonates with me so much because I am a bastard child of political punk and black metal, but there's a lot more to Spewings than that. A hellish sample opens up the album to "The Horror Is Here" just before snarls take over the sonics of "Necropunk". If your neck isn't sore by track three, you're not listening to this loud enough. Spewings never runs out of steam, either. There isn't a single lull in all fourteen tracks (just over thirty minutes) and I had to play a few of the later tracks multiple times to make sure my ears weren't playing tricks on me. Was that really a Crass-inspired talking part in "Caught Out"?! Yes, it was. Fuck me, this album came out of nowehere.
Simply put, Spewings is one of the must-listen albums of a year already packed to the brim with other mandatory gems. It's transcendent, wicked, and utterly filthy. Go get it before it's gone.
Verdict: Epic Win [9.5/10]