"Anyway, the music on “Wage Slave” is as crusty and abrasive as the toast I was eating that morning I decided to become an Internet Music Critic. Schizophrenic tempo changes are executed with the wisdom of a shaman and the strength of an ape with Downs-Syndrome, and express the desire we all feel to catch ourselves on fire, or punch ourselves in the face for attention. Movie samples and distortion and snare drum and cymbal bell blend to create a black-and-white-sounding symphony of chainsaws with vocals that remind me of Mothra hatching from its cocoon to distribute some motherfucking terror on you while cupping the microphone. The sound on this disc is so real you can almost smell the Pabst Blue Ribbon piss on the bathroom floors at the bars they play. The Grind is punishing static, and the Sludge is mostly void of twang, which I am sure will make Down weep another single tear of woe for the nineties. Fueled with kill bud and turpentine, this entire recording is a serrated knife across the fake-bake leather skinned jugular vein of pedantry and good taste. No wonder my brother gave it to me.
Plaguebot keep the DIY tape trade racket alive with their newest CDr release, and they are gentlemanly enough to include a sticker, some Xeroxed artwork, and a handmade patch for when you blow the crotch out of your sister’s pants again with your faggoty high-kicks. Good luck getting laid listening to this – it is demo-quality slow-core speed-worship, and it will turn you into a Monk by default. You have been warned."