ISSUE #7 - 1991

Nokturnel -- Welcome To New Jersey,     tape
    A violent and holy overthrow of every thing we thought death metal could be, Nokturnel have proven to be masters of sonic destruction. Denser and quicker than any noiseters ever, they shit out riff after riff without looking back, creating a mindmelting buzzing squall. While every joker with a gtr and inverted cross has been signed, Nokturnel still lounge in veritable obscurity. Wanna know why? CUZ NOBODY FUCKIN UNDERSTANDS THEM. Yet. In two or three years people will be able to decode their free jazz and enjoy, but right now this three piece is ignored and scoffed at. Imagine Big Black, Motorhead, Hanatarash, Ornette Coleman, Morbid Angel, Metal Machine Music, the Minutemen, Helios Creed, and an Amtrak train coming out of your stereo all at once and you've got an idea of the impact of this and last year's You Don't Have A Chance. The lyrics are sung by a backwoods Satanist with a throat that's been ripped open, stuffed with gravel, sewn back together, and he croons about how sorry you're gonna be when he gets his hands on you. High pitched riffs fly and twist through the air like roman candles, while the rhythm whirrs like a buzzsaw seeking fresh flesh. Once you punch through the veneer of evil and metalisms, you'll come to realize Nokturnel are the ugly future of music. God help us. (Nokturnel c/o Martin O'Connor, 91 Northgate Village, Burlington, NJ 08016)
   -Ed Sullivan

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