The ludicrous height of "extreme" metal/punk madness. Now here's an album with an agenda: using an ultra low-fi performance and production style crossed with cut-up/sound collage aesthetics, belligerent humor bleeding out over the whole thing, and taking the sound of the late 80s UK grindcore / crustcore aesthetic and cramming into a woodchipper of goofiness, ultra-violence, anti-authoritarian and anti-capitalst rage, and uncontrollable experimental weirdness. Yep, the Sore Throat guys are still making fun of fellow extreme music outfits and Earache labelmates, making fun of the metal/hardcoe scene itself, unleashing more of their bizarre in-jokes that probably only make sense to the band and their circle of friends, capped off with some sincere assaults on civilizational decline, Cold War hyper-anxieties and Industrial-Military Complex fuckery, and the general forward momentum of total global oppression. All delivered with a smile.

My original 2010 review of the CD reissue version, updated and edited for this release:

Classic noisecore/grindnoize from the UK! Sore Throat were one of the craziest, fastest, noisiest bands on Earache Records back in the early days of the label, with members that would go on to play in other well known hardcore, doom and grind bands like Doom, Stalingrad, Solstice, Blood Sucking Feaks, and Lazarus Blackstar. But the band and their 1990 Lp Disgrace To The Corpse Of Sid was one of the most avant-garde things that the label had released at that point, a blistering assemblage of 101 "songs" that helped to plant the seed for the entire noisecore underground that would sprout up over the course of the 1990s. The entire beginning of Disgrace is a mad rush through haywire distorted chaos, the whole A-side of the album essentially jammed together into a single twenty-plus minute track, made up of ninety (!) "songs" of absurdly short fifteen-second blasts of mutant psychgrind / improvised noize violence that all sounds just as insane today as this stuff was back at the twilight of the 1980s. Like Seven Minutes Of Nausea, each "song" is a compacted blast of hyperspeed grind, the songs strung together in a stream of seemingly endless machinegun blastbeats combined with bizarre effects, psychotic vocals with extreme amounts of delay, blats of harsh industrial noise, fucked-up tape noise, garbled vokill gibberish, and cuckoo clocks. Cuckoo clocks! Ludicrous and over the top and total genius, with ridiculous snarky song titles ("Slam Of Buttocks", "Power Of Nuclear Kill Brain", "From Off License To Obliteration", "Anal Intelligence Apartheid", "In Grapple There Is No Law"), a non stop aural assault and a surrealistic vibe that has as much in common with early Boredoms as it does with the abrasive blastnoise of Anal Cunt and 7MON. The b-side of the record though is more straightforward crusty thrash like that of their earlier releases, mixing together the Amebix-esque tribal drumming and swirling distortion of "Pride", "Prisoner", and "The Enemy Within", the sludgy, almost Sabbathy bass-heavy crust of "Different Sides.. Of Same Coin" and the dismal chugging dirge of "Famine", faster detuned d-beat thrashers like "Chapel Of Ghouls", "Desire (Peniside)", "Truth", the quirky stop-start post-punk lurch of "Living Hell", and the goofy protest-folk tune "The Ballad Of 'Mad' Mickey", finally finishing with one final twenty-five second blast of psychedelic noise/grind "Hsarht Drawkoab" that will strip any remaining flesh straight off of your face.

In my opinion, Sore Throat never sounded as hellish and bizarre as they did here, a forty-minute spew of ceaseless barbarity and psychotronic experimentalism that achieves its aim of "destroying music". A portal into total sonic confusion and pandemonium.