Defiance of convention is at the heart of artcore punk rockers Worms. The first time through I shook my head. Second time through I rubbed my chin and shook my head. Third time through I wondered if I was missing something. With all the violent guitar riffs that spiral into a cyclone of experimentation and lead to a sort of musical exorcism, I am still wondering if the demons might also be in the instruments and not only tormenting the players. Is Worms an experiment attempting to meld sonic elements and politics of post-punk and coat it in Dante’s Inferno‘s terrifying literary vision? If so, then the spacious 11 tracks are ambitious.
Worms has an agenda encompassing: “the death of the republic, hatred of the imperialistic police state, the complacency of zombified consumers, kids playing into the hands of the corporate beast by buying mass-produced spiked belts, about making music that incites violence…” There’s good and bad ideas in that credo and considering all of Worms, I hope the band does its punk homework, guides their fans past punk’s inherent pitfalls and utilizes punk’s pluses for a positive change.
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