Trash Talk – No Peace Trash Talk – No Peace

Trash Talk - No Peace (2014)

Trash Talk – No Peace (2014)

Let me tell you straight up that there are pretty good odds against you liking one minute of No Peace (unless, of course, you count the bookended minutes provided by The Alchemist and you’ve got a taste for grimy avant hip hop producers). It is a brash and plodding effort of SoCal knuckle-cracking nihilism that – even with an ear that can tune to chugging, scrape the skin and fuckit fury – is as exhausting as student dental work and only about half as painful.

So, pretty much not for everybody…or even most…some?

I mean, if you’re a Trash Talk fan, you’ll LOVE No Peace because Trash Talk inspires the kind of devoted fanbase that can safely be called rabid, but more accurately described as “crazy as fuck.”

But if you are not one of the thousands of sweat-blind lunatics whose sinewy bodies routinely fly – boot first – at my face whenever I see the band live and don’t have a particular yen for the young piss punks playing the long con of inspired/inspiring destruction, then no…you won’t like No Peace at all. Hell, I don’t really like the record that much and I love hurting myself with a malt liquor Molotov in one hand and a crowbar in the other (black mask, implied) wobbling, snarled against God or the State or whatever you’ve got, motherfucker.

I even actually like Trash Talk and have done my time with the S/T release, Eyes & Nines and 119 but I never, ever go back to them because the wax representation of the band – though deliberately forged and thoroughly consummate – doesn’t hit me with the right tooth brick. It’s fast (though not SO much now) and loud and bile-churning but what hooks it hangs on are often buried so deep in the guttural low end that the whole thing just feels like a glue trap.

Which it should, I guess.

And that’s fine because records denote permanence, stasis. They are objects in place and time and Trash Talk is a band that thrives in the chaotic shrifts of life, alive. The stage, the street, the beer-soaked basement, the death trip reincarnation. Trash Talk is built to perform, not record. They require the electric rage of air and raw amplifiers to incite them to the exceptional frenzy that makes them one of the greatest goddamn bands playing.

Their albums are just a base, an excuse to get out there and lay waste to young lives teetering on the brink of extinction in the spirit of mutual exhaltation.

They’re a lot like KISS that way.

Only terrifying.

No Peace Tracklist:

1. “Amnesiatic” (prod. by Alchemist)
2. “Jigsaw”
3. “The Hole”
4. “Leech”
5. “Cloudkicker”
6. “Body Stuffer”
7. “Nine Lives”
8. “Monochrome / F.F.S.”
9. “The Great Escape”
10. “Locked in Skin”
11. “S.O.S.”
12. “Prometheus”
13. “Just a Taste”
14. “Reprieve” (prod. by Alchemist)
15. “Still Waiting For The Sun” [bonus track]
16. “Stackin Skins” (featt. Wiki and King Krule) [bonus track]

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