What thrillers, what gruesome tales of horror could be imagined around lines like "Gouge it. Slurp it. Keep it in." (p. 73) Or think of what the painting might show. Percussion by words. Grounded in tense, menacing NYC street corners of the 80s. Sinister commands. Needless to say, such cauldrons have by no means disappeared from today's city life. Lyrics tell devastation of gut and limb. Rhythms in sync also with the pounding and stomping machinery of the industrial past.weiterlesen