### The Locust: Plague soundscapes

#### 09/09/09 || Khlysty

Sometimes I really wonder what the fuck’s going on in Southern California. I mean, hell, L.A. and Hollywood’s there; also, a Silicon Valley’s there; also, a lot of fucking bizarrities are spawned there and then unleashed to the rest of the world. So, is it any wonder that The Locust, one of the most incredibly crazy-ass, demented, lunatic (put on any other synonym you can come up with…) bands ever to pollute the innocent minds of the young ‘uns of the world, has been shat out from this exact place? I mean, Jesus H. Christ, can anyone really put a stop to this flux of corruption, debauchery and moral-cesspool-leak coming from this modern Sodom (…not the band, you nimrods, the place!) and Gomorrah?!!! Who will save our children??!!!!

Now, for us to be prepared to face this –rather old, but cunningly hidden- peril, one has to know the enemy. And this time, the enemy comes in the guise of four “persons” (who hide their features under masks and bestial costumes), who have taken the name of the Eighth Plague that Our Lord sent to the Pharaoh (now is that a coincidence? Think hard, me fellow Christians!!!). The Locust, as they have chosen to name themselves, exist in one form or another (because the Tempter has many faces and many human instruments ready to do his bidding) since 1994; they started as a “powerviolence” (Oh, Lord, deliver us!) band, only to be transformed –obviously by some hellish intervention- into a “grindcore-mathcore” unit.

The record under scrutiny by us faithful is called “Plague Soundscapes” (See, see!!! Here ‘tis again, the sign of the Evil One!) and it was shat forth in 2004 A.D. by a record label called ANTI- (ANTI-christ, maybe?! You infidel sons of whores!). It contains twenty-three bursts of un-Christian extreme noise terror, which a brother who had succumbed to their evil ways –but who, now, has found Our Lord and Saviour!- told me that is what those keen of the beastly ways of the band call “experimental grind-noise-something”. He also told me, and I use his words verbatim, that “The Locust approach their material in a highly atypical way. I mean, grindcore uses very compressed time-frames for the songs, which are typically under one minute. The band does this, but they also add a lot of synthesized noise in the mix. Also, they have a tendency of highly abrupt tempo and time signature changes, a trait that characterises math-metal”.

Oh, my brothers, I shudder as I read these heathen words. But, we must thank the brother who gave us all this information, for to be forewarned is to be prepared. Now, listen carefully to what else the brother had to say: “All the Locust’s songs have very long and clearly surreal titles, like ‘The Half-Eaten Sausage Would Like To See You In His Office’, or ‘Priest With The Sexually Transmitted Disease, Get Out Of My Bed’ (I think that the blasphemy is clear…), or, (worst of all) ‘Anything Jesus Does, I Can Do Better’, while the lyrics are sometimes stream-of-consciousness paradoxes and sometimes scathing anti-establishment rants, all sung up in a screamy, screechy way, over loud and extreme-dexterity-needing music. These guys are real instrumental prodigies. The twists and turns their music takes are sometimes unbelievable, while the speed, the sheer velocity of the songs make even industro-grind monsters like Agoraphobic Nosebleed or The Amenta sound like the Salvation Army band”.

But, my brothers, there’s more; there’s worse to come: “Their sound is also highly atypical, since they use higher-register noise, instead of the downtuned instrumentation that typifies grind. The Locust’s sound is metallic, extremely dense in information and very exciting, making the band one for huge moshpits. They also add elements from jazz, new wave, noise and hardcore punk and they spew forth all of this acidic mixture in short, sharp bursts, like a machine gun, staccato-ing against a crowd! Oh, man, this is the real shit, and…”. Hmmmmm, well, yes, I can see that the point came through, loud and clear. And now, there comes the crucial question: what can be done with this abomination? How can we protect ourselves, out community, our children from this contamination? What are our opt…hey, what’s that noise? What’s going on? What…ARRRRRRRGH!!!!

“In other news, the bodies of the members of a Christian group of citizens were found in an apartment, where the group regularly held its meetings. The group, whose name was ‘Christian Solidarity Against Heathen Music’, was very vocal in its attempt to ban from the whole country what its members considered as ‘music that corrupts our youth’. According to a police source, the authorities are really horrified by the state the bodies were found in, but, also, perplexed by the presence of a few hundred locusts within the scene of this heinous crime. Investigations continue, although without bearing any results as of now…”

- Information
- Released: 2003
- Label: ANTI-
- Website: www.thelocust.com
- Band
- Justin Pearson: bass, vocals
- Gabe Serbian: guitar, drums
- Bobby Bray: guitar, vocals
- Joseph Karam: keyboards, samples, vocals

- Tracklist
- 01. Recyclable Body Fluids in Human Shape
- 02. Identity Exchange Program, Rectum Return Policy
- 03. Solar Panel Asses
- 04. Live From the Russian Compound
- 05. Earwax Halo Manufactured For the Champion in All of Us
- 06. Wet Dream War Machine
- 07. Listen, the Mighty Ear Is Here
- 08. Who Wants A Dose Of The Clap?
- 09. Teenage Mustache
- 10. How to Become a Virgin
- 11. Anything Jesus Does, I Can Do Better
- 12. Late For A Double-Date With A Pile Of Atoms In The Watercloset
- 13. File Under “Softcore Seizures”
- 14. Practiced Hatred
- 15. Pssst! Is That A Halfie In Your Pants?
- 16. The Half-Eaten Sausage Would Like To See You In His Office
- 17. Pulling The Christmas Pig By The Wrong Pair Of Ears
- 18. Can We Please Get Another Nail In The Coffin Of Culture Theft
- 19. Your Mantel Disguised As A Psychic Sasquatch
- 20. Twenty-Three Lubed-Up Schizophrenics With Delusions Of Grandeur
- 21. Captain Gaydar It’s Time To Wind Up Your Clock
- 22. Priest With The Sexually Transmitted Disease, Get Out Of My Bed
- 23. Pick-Up Truck Full Of Forty-Minutes