The vinyl version of the punishing second album from sludgy Chi-town noise rockers Coughs, presented in a stomach boiling full color LP sleeve covered in close up photos of fake flowers.

Chicago sextet Coughs return with Secret Passage, their second album on Load, which delivers more of their clangorous, crushing take on 80's no wave and noise rock, delivered in a series of searing, blood soaked scrap metal dirges. I haven't heard their previous album, but I'm definitely digging the dense, polyrhythmic churn of Secret Passage, evoking the 80's "pigfuck" vibe of the NYC noise scene and beefing things up with a nervous, bottom-heavy lurch that makes this alot heavier than other current bands tapping the no-wave vein. Coughs is made up of two drummers bashing tribal rhythms on huge discarded 55-gallon oil barrels and drumkits along with honking alto sax, keyboards, screeching dentist drill guitar noise, and sludgy bass guitar depth-charges worked into intricate structures, and singer Anya Davidson belts out brutal monochromatic screams that bleed insanity, her possessed, strangled yelps recounting tyrannical acne, little bunnies, and sweat-soaked urban fever dreams. They've take the ragged, stained skronk of bands like early Sonic Youth and NY no wavers The Contortions and 8 Eyed Spy, the ferociousness of Bikini Kill, the junkyard tribalism of Crash Worship,and the relentless pounding of early Swans and created something heavy and terrifying and exuberant. Totally nauseating images of fake, brightly colored flowers make up the album's full color sleeve.