Where they from?
Long Island, New York. I wrote on twitter last week that no New York sports team will win a championship in my lifetime and I honestly believe that’s true. The Yankees are now doomed to Cowboy’s status of perennial underachievers now that George Steinbrenner is gone and the closest thing to competence outside of that is the freakin Islanders who started the season being outscored 100,000,000,000 to one in their first two games. Eh, I guess the Nets might do it, but honestly, does anyone really give a fuck about them?
Why the hype?
If you really love the gore-soaked bombast of Australia’s Incinerated but wished they were from Long Island and wrote songs about processed food, well boy, do I have a band for you! When it comes to this style of music, it all really hinges on what type of shitty garage/warehouse that the band decides to record in, and by all accounts I think this band found the right one. You can practically hear the pinging of the snare reverberate of the graffiti filled walls of some rotting concrete coffin somewhere off of 495. It also doesn’t hurt that Dog Food seemed to have found just the right mix between caveman stompy knucklehead riffs and actual rapid-fire grindcore precision. Also, it sounds like they’re doing it with just a bassist!
Food Processor, self-released. One time my brother and his friend were talking about plans to visit Long Island over the Summer when I piped up with a “Long Island? More like Schlong Island”. They still talk about it to this day. I don’t know, what can I say? I guess 19-year-old Adderall-addicted me was some sort of comedic genius. I mean, just the sheer brilliance of it, it still gets me teary-eyed sometimes. Ah, to be young again.