posted on 9/2007 By:
Hungarian moshballs Jack have been plying their craft for just over a decade, apparently altering their style over the years from melodic punk to hardcore, then on to grindcore, until finally settling on the crust stylings found on MMVII (at least, that’s what I can gather from their sparse historical information). By no means am I an expert on said genre, but Jack sounds a bit too clean to be crustified…Skitsystem or World Burns To Death, this is not. In actuality, MMVII sounds like a lightweight pseudo-grind record, packed with more bounce than heft.
The disc's best tracks are those in which the frantic drum work overpowers the nondescript punk riffage, but those are few and far between. Because the whole affair bobs along at a feverish, blasting clip and is covered with monotonous hardcore barking, there’s really not a whole lot to sink your teeth into here; no real riffs, no exemplary hooks. Jack throw down a simple offering of indiscriminate speed, slightly akin to Squash Bowels…minus the intestinal fortitude and grinding axework that make that band compelling.
Regardless of the shortcomings, MMVII would at least be fun if it had been marinated in bile and served with a bit more spite, but the ho-hum production job doesn’t do the band any favors, nor does their “slightly irritated, but not yet belligerent” delivery. Maybe if they find something that truly pisses them off, they’ll turn some heads, but ‘til then…pass the Vicodin.
Use once and destroy.
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