Current cart in use:
SHOPPING CART
Cart: items - $0.00
Title Qty
your cart is empty

Explore

In Stock

Artists

Actors

Format

Genre

Label

Specialty

Explore

In Stock

Artists

Actors

Format

Genre

Label

Specialty

Split
  • Artist: Sick/Tired
  • Label: Deep Six Records
  • UPC: 685306024617
  • Item #: 1704932X
  • Genre: Rock
  • Release Date: 5/13/2016
  • Rank: 1000000000
LP 
Price: $12.99
  • Share on Google+
  • Digg It
  • Stumble Upon

You May Also Like

Description

Split on LP

Limited vinyl LP pressing of this split release. Not many people know about Sea Of Shit, which is a damn shame because these guys are actually pissed. The Whole Time. This is the soundtrack to your hate, rage, sins. Anger accompanies us anywhere we go, so why should we suppress it? Why can't we just revel in our rage and let our heart, at least once, overwhelm our senses? Can't we just break free and cherish our emotions in their natural state? Unlike the more straightforward and thrashcore-y bands like Infest or Capitalist Casualties, Sea Of Shit constantly switches between various stop start riffs and tempos (think Lack Of Interest, Crossed Out). One second you're assaulted by indistinguishable walls of noiz and the next one band goes sludgy and noizy and feedback. Unloading a punishing brand of low-fi grindcore with rabid hardcore and punk influences, Sick/Tired was founded in 2008, formed by ex-members of modern brutality specialists Weekend Nachos and '90s power-violence/thrashcore activists MK Ultra. To date they have released multiple records on labels including Profane Existence, To Live a Lie, Cowabunga Records and others. In 2011, they parted ways with their original vocalist and added A. Jennings from Winters in Osaka, the lineup currently rounded out by bassist Kirk Syrek, guitarist Ben Gonzalez, and drummer Adam Tomlinson. This lineup shift resulted in their most intense material to date, exemplified in a review by Grind And Punishment, who described Sick/Tired's May 2013-released King of Dirt LP as, "boldly striding face first into a tornado of glass shards. It's a maelstrom of whirling slivers intent on rending your flesh, a vortex of unremitting insanity.