7000 Dying Rats

The History of Comedy Grind: Decibel investigates the history of humor in grindcore—seriously. - Paging through Decibel or any other metal mag, you’ll see a lot of crossed arms, corpsepaint-accentuated scowls and the full range of metal facial expressions: the Five of Us Could Easily Beat You Up face; the Yes, We Are Very Deeply Into the Occult face; the You Have Caught Us in the Midst of Brooding face; the We Dare Not Look Into the Camera (Except for the Guy Who Is Staring Intensely at It) face. You know ’em. When confronted with these band photos, my girlfriend, who is not into metal at all, will inevitably ask, “Are these guys serious?” And the answer, almost always, is yes, they are. Metal is SERIOUS BUSINESS. Funny metal makes people wonder about ironic intentions, and it just seems unmetal most of the time. Funny metal is, like, Lordi and hair-metal jokes on VH1—i.e., not really funny at all.

Some combination of absurdity, physical comedy, and the fact that it’s only even tolerable to maybe .001% of the world’s population has turned grindcore into possibly the last refuge of humor in extreme music. Even deadly serious bands like Napalm Death recall laughing at the preposterous speed of their rehearsals. Why is grindcore the only metal genre where it’s OK to laugh at yourself?

Stormtroopers of Death, a side project with Anthrax guitarist Scott Ian and drummer Charlie Benante, Dan Lilker from Nuclear Assault (also later of Exit-13 and Extra Hot Sauce), and roadie Billy Milano, were the starting point for the crossover of metal and hardcore punk (see this month’s Hall of Fame for more) and an early force for humor in extreme music. “I don’t think there was a band that inspired us to have funny lyrics,” says Lilker. “We just decided to do something really obnoxious and humorous because that’s the kind of people we were. Some of the hardcore bands back then had funny lyrics; they weren’t all serious and political.” On Speak English or Die, an album generally not owned by poseurs, Milano went all loudmouth Archie Bunker over some of the sweetest mosh riffs in history on stuff like “Pre-Menstrual Princess Blues,” “Pussy Whipped” and “Douche Crew.” There was also the title track and “Fuck the Middle East.” Twenty-two years later, Lilker still has to explain that “Speak English or Die” was, y’know, a joke.

“We were having fun, and it was also kind of an interesting sociological experiment to see if we’d get responses from the people we thought we would,” he says. “Sure enough, we pissed off the guy who ran Maximumrocknroll, Jello Biafra… stuff like that. Of course, there were some people who thought the lyrics were serious and they loved it, and that was a little scary—these right-wing types like, ‘I thought you were serious!’”

Four years before S.O.D., four guys in New Jersey who’d caught the end of ’70s punk with a group called the East Patterson Boys Choir started up a new band in 1981 that went for goofiness and satire over all-out offensiveness: Adrenalin O.D. “When we started, it was a little serious,” guitarist Paul Richards recalls. “I was just starting to write songs. After you get a few songs under your belt, you can see what’s good, and, eh, not so good. Writing a song is hard enough; writing a good one is harder. Trying to figure out what to write about is the hardest. It turned out that the songs I liked the most were the ones with the stupidest lyrics. So I followed my muse and wrote even stupider songs. I believe I reached the pinnacle of stupidestness with ‘Youth Blimp.’ It’s been downhill ever since.”

A.O.D. were stupid, but the smart kind of stupid that has room for satire like “Corporate Disneyland” and “Clean and Jerk” alongside the astoundingly moronic “Rock ‘n’ Roll Gas Station.” “A.O.D. complained about everything from politics to cops to jocks to the stupidity of society in general,” says big fan Chris Dodge, formerly of Spazz and funny-core band Stikky. “That could describe any band from Black Flag to D.R.I., but A.O.D.’s approach made it original, and by using humor, made the message more palatable. Also, I stole the idea of wearing a Goofy hat on stage from their drummer.”

“Why did funny songs have to suck?” Richards asks. “Why was it that only someone like Weird Al doing parodies of popular songs or lame country crap like Ray Stevens could be funny?” Adrenalin O.D. were funny, but they were also FAST. Pre-grindcore superfast—or, as Richards calls it, stupidfast. “We didn’t consciously set out to be funny; we set out to be fast as hell. When we were on tour and really limber, we would look at each other before a song like ‘World War 4’ and say, ‘Play it as fast as you can!’” says drummer Dave Scott. “The songs would be so fast we would end up cracking ourselves up at the end.”

Adrenalin O.D. and S.O.D. were coming from different places humor-wise, though guitarist Bruce Wingate points to a likely common influence: “I think there’s an entire unacknowledged subculture that originated in the New York/New Jersey/Connecticut region based on the TV channels WPIX, and WOR-TV,” he says. “White Castle, The Honeymooners, Carvel commercials, monster movies... everyone from the Dictators to the Ramones and the Beastie Boys referenced it.”

Still, A.O.D. had more of a point than pure stupidity. “There was always an element that acknowledged that the conventions of hardcore needed to be challenged and mocked,” Wingate says. “It was an attitude we copped from ’70s punk.” Not everyone appreciated the challenge. “One critic wanted to ‘bury us up to our necks and run over us with a lawnmower,’” remembers Richards, “‘just to see how funny we thought it was.’”

It’s kind of funny, if “Satan’s Trampoline” or “Sumo Rabbit and His Inescapable Trap of Doom” are your speed. It might be a British thing. Across the Atlantic from New Jersey, Chris Flint of the UK thrash band Scrawm “devised the concept of Lawnmower Deth from the bottom of a beer glass,” recalls Deth’s vocalist Peter Lee (a.k.a. Qualcast Mutilator). “Influenced by the antics of Bathory and the like, he devised the most ludicrous way to die in metal, via lawnmower.”

Lawnmower Deth goofed up thrash metal with absurd lyrics, dance interludes, lots of lawnmower jokes and probably everything that seemed funny to them for a couple of minutes. Somehow they ended up on Earache, alongside a bunch of serious-business bands. “The grind bands certainly didn’t get us,” Lee writes, in Qualcast Mutilator mode. “Being on Earache was bizarre, as I know we really pissed off most of the bands there. Sure we got on with them, but musically they hated us. Godflesh, Cathedral, Morbid Angel… now they were serious! If you find Nocturnus funny, you will understand why Lawnmower Deth had a home. Nocturnus is still funny, yet they thought it was awesome.

“We were just punk rock and metal kids having a go at what we loved,” he says. “Was this not what the scene was about? Nothing to do with taking the piss, just getting up and do[ing] it. However, as the serious guys became more serious, the targets just became easier. I remember being really affronted by Slayer’s use of fighter planes in a video to glorify war—and I love Slayer. I used to get riled by those who got on their soapbox complaining about the scene when others were off their arses doing it (no matter how badly) writing zines, organizing gigs, playing in bands. The press thought we were either taking the piss, good time entertainment, shite or art. I love the fact that certain elements of the press thought [it was] art—hysterical. I was once compared to Zappa and Beefheart—now who was taking the piss?”

As more and more thrash, punk, hardcore and early grindcore bands formed throughout the ’80s, some inevitably went for the stupid and the gross-out. “Soiled Depends,” frontman for the very funny goregrinders Putrescence and scholar of all things grindcore, credits Canadian sick jokers Dayglo Abortions with defining offensive humor in metal. “The lyrical subject matter from this Canadian institution—bestiality, pud poundin’, and mom quenching her thirst with bags of urine— really set a tone for me,” Depends says. “The Dayglos paved my way to grindcore bands like Aspirin Feast, who did ‘Kill It With a Skillet,’ a song about infanticide. And Heist: ‘Brain is dumb, dumb is fun, skull is dumb, I am dumb!’ The ability to turn music that sounded like Infest into a brain-damaged, foul-breathed and not very funny Dr. Seuss seemed like work matched only by true polymaths or those gifted in many different mental areas.”

Other grind bands went for a sort of absurdity of form. Scott Hull started Agoraphobic Nosebleed, “amidst all the noisecore tape trading back in the early to mid ’90s—bands like Genital Masticator, 7 Minutes of Nausea, Anal Cunt, Meat Shits, cramming a billion tracks onto a tape.” Hull briefly joined Anal Cunt to play on 40 More Reasons to Hate Us, by which time A.C.’s shtick had devolved (or maybe evolved, I don’t know) from the fairly witty “Abomination of Unnecessarily Augmented Composition Monikers” and “Guess Which 10 of These Are Actually Song Titles” to blatant offend-anybody titles like “Kill Women,” “You’re a Fucking Cunt” and “Your Family Is Dumb.” (The cover of Manowar’s “Gloves of Metal,” a duet with Phil Anselmo, is still a work of conceptual brilliance.)

“Seth [Putnam, Anal Cunt vocalist] would probably step over any line you put in front of him, and then he’d call you a fag for putting the line in front of him,” Hull says. Agoraphobic Nosebleed, despite lyricist Jay Randall taking offensiveness to a surreal level Hull calls “rambling, drug-addled, Hunter S. Thompson crossed with Peter Sotos lyrics, sometimes retarded, sometimes brilliant” and going far enough with some domestic-violence lines that a Rolling Stone reviewer flipped out, does have boundaries. “We’re limited to what each person in the band feels comfortable with. Obviously Richard [Johnson], who was in Enemy Soil, isn’t really into concepts involving putting LSD in baby bottles for infants, but he gets the sense of dark humor enough to sing them. We’ve had to talk about not giving a shit if people think that’s us or not. I think we decided that if people think that’s what we’re legitimately about, fuck it. Let them. We’re not out to make friends; we’re just out to give you a headache.”

To date, only one band has stood up and proudly declared itself “comedy grind”: 7000 Dying Rats. 7KDR is actually a sorta-supergroup with a shifting lineup, currently boasting dudes from Lair of the Minotaur and no-wave terrorist Weasel Walter (Flying Luttenbachers, XBXRX), and scoring a surprising amount of ink in Decibel for such a dumb joke. An album review, an “Upfront” feature, and now they’re in a “think piece” about grindcore? What the fuck? Anyway, multi-instrumentalist Toney Vast-Binder calls the “comedy grind” tag “something that we made up to make fun of people who couldn’t get over the non-metal aspects of our music. Their reviews usually start with some variation of, ‘Why can’t these fuckers stop fucking around?’”

7KDR’s Season in Hell did somehow score an appearance from Neurosis’ Scott Kelly. Like His Hero Is Gone or My Dying Bride, Neurosis are one of those bands where it’s hard to imagine a member even cracking a smile, let alone hanging out with the authors of “Grind Fluffer.” “In their day, even Vikings probably launched mead through their noses after a frightened, hapless Norman tripped and decapitated himself on an unused, upright plowshare,” Vast-Binder says when asked how they convinced Kelly to participate. “I think even Vikings needed to giggle now and again.”

Dan Lilker, who’s still active in grindcore bands, says, “A lot of bands are really groomed now. Like metalcore bands that start out young and go right into being on a label and touring, have their videos going straight to Headbangers Ball; they think they have to be serious about it.

“People can be funny even if their band presents a very different image,” he continues. “When I first met Fenriz [Darkthrone], he had a walkman on and was listening to comedy CDs, laughing to himself at the bar, drinking beer. People aren’t always what they seem.”

“The people who enjoy playing this music still haven’t found enough ways to tell the audience and the rest of civilization, in the words of Sockeye, to buttfuck their own faces,” Soiled Depends summates. “Frankly, whatever the fuck DragonForce is writing about seems infinitely more stupid and less relevant to the advancement of society to me.”

“Who the hell wants to listen to that shit?” Weasel Walter replies when I ask why grindcore is the only extreme metal genre to embrace its own funniness. “We like good songwriting and pro-attitude bands like Trivium.” - Anthony Bartkewicz

Grind pranksters congregate until they're much too loud - Comedy grind band 7000 Dying Rats made short work of Venom, Thin Lizzy, and the theme from Beverly Hills: 90210 on their last couple of records, frequent tour partners Anal Cunt got a taste of their own medicine on “Anal Cunt Is Gay,” and a triumphant opening performance for Dio nearly got the band run out of their own hometown. These guys take acting infantile as seriously as Neil Hamburger takes his non-sequitur punch lines. No sacred cow is too tender to gore—or, in the case of the group’s infamous backyard party “tribute to black metal,” get butchered and nailed to a homemade cross.

Black Sabbath (via a banjo arrangement of “Paranoid”) and KISS (the stadium-sized parody “Rock n Roll Weapon”) get the typical derisive 7KDR treatment on Season in Hell. As usual, half of the fun comes from parsing the song titles, identifying the parody targets, and listening to hear how far the Chicago-Detroit collective is willing to carry a one-note joke. Tracks like “Grind Fluffer” and “Jesus Farted” require no further explanation, but “We Had ‘Dying’ in Our Name Before All Those Metalcore Cocksuckers Came Along”—which reduces the whole genre into one 20-second song-snippet—is unquestionably the band’s finest hour. “We are totally bothered by our genius,” explains vocalist Josh Diebel, the band’s only remaining original member. “And it keeps us up at night like a bad case of the squirts.”

Not only is Season in Hell the most succinctly titled record in the group’s somewhat spotty recording history, but it’s also the best sounding, courtesy of Sanford Parker’s production and a bang-up mastering job from Scott Hull (Pig Destroyer/Agoraphobic Nosebleed). “Sanford was a no-brainer, because of his work with Lair of the Minotaur. Also, he is quite beautiful to look at,” notes Diebel. “We never saw Scott Hull, so I can’t comment on his appearance, but his efforts were palpable. The final mix of Season in Hell was great, but the mastered version is a totally different record. Give anything to Scott Hull and he’ll make it fuckin’ huge!”

This past November, 7000 Dying Rats celebrated the completion of Season in Hell with a record release show in Chicago that prompted the group to put their trademark ski masks back into mothballs. This may be due to D.J. Barraca and Steve Rathbone’s commitments in Lair of the Minotaur or the fact that Season in Hell is really just a collection of previously unreleased material. Diebel chalks it up to their label’s “unorthodox” business practices. “A group of lawyers representing the corporate heads of Hewhocorrupts Inc. offered us a large sum of money in exchange for the band’s name, our current catalogue, our merchandising rights, and all of the songs we will ever write in the future,” he sighs. “Now we must obey our masters. - Nick Green

Season In Hell CD - "7000 Dying Rats might share two members (guitarists Steve Rathbone and Donald James Barraca) with Hessian destroyers Lair of the Minotaur; they might have conned Neurosis vocalist-guitarist Scott Kelly into a spoken-word guest shot ("A Real Kneeslapper"); they might even rock screwy Sabbath covers ("Paranoid," with a banjo). Shit, these Chicago-based metal jokesters might even bust out atonal violin interludes ("Argument at Your Local Indie Record Store, " "Funeral March") when they're not embarking upon intentionally goofy instrumental space-prog freakouts ("Ballad of Chico"). But, really, the hilarious song "We Had 'Dying' in Our Name Way Before All Those Metalcore Cocksuckers Came Along" says it all." (3 stars) - J. Bennett

Season In Hell CD - "This is great. I'm not the biggest fan of the humoristic approach — as scarce as it is found in the first place — in metal or the underground in general; I think this kind of music is a serious business, at least for me. Nonetheless, Season in Hell is a great album. 7000 Dying Rats, beyond and above anything, create GREAT music; it is eclectic, powerful, colorful and erratic; it never bores, never loses its grip on the listener, never fucking sleeps; it constantly slaps you on the hand, punches you in the face and it displays its musical surprises every passing moment. There's always action there, always. Yeah, that's the thing: It's like a nonsensical action movie being filmed in a mental asylum, give or take an ounce of lunacy... although I have a hunch even the most tight-assed purists among you will dig this movie. Death metal, grindcore, hard-rock ala AC/DC, some horror sound clips, sludge, funeral doom-ish and/or black-metal-ish, spine-chilling organs; it's all there. Plus sounds of anal wind breaks ("Jesus Farted"), crying babies ("Baby Crusher"), other sounds that involve biological body processes and one hilarious "cover" for Black Sabbath's classic "Paranoid" song, which many will surely find blasphemous... or will just burst into uncontrollable laughter. 7000 Dying Rats have taken a conscious decision to shed the inherent (pseudo) seriousness of metal and other forms of extreme music branching from it, and just have fun while also to make fun of all those "holy icons" taken so dead seriously in some metal circles (take black metal, for instance...). But at the same time, 7000 Dying Rats also never neglect the actual music, and invest in its quality the same amount of energy they have incorporated into their thematic / textual substances. 7000 Dying Rats really ridicule almost every metal genre out there, musically as well as lyrics-wise, and via 28 short but effective tracks they deliver one of the most adventurous, courageous and refreshing albums of recent times. In the black metal "community," a band such as this would have been boycotted; imagine that." - Chaim Drishner

Season In Hell CD - "According to a study newly published by the Global Resource Institute, the planet’s joke supply will be completely exhausted by 2017. Unfortunately, the GRI compiled its data last year, before 7000 Dying Rats dropped Season in Hell. It’s next to impossible to calculate the extent to which the Chicago/Bay Area-based goofcore institution’s third album has depleted the world’s supply of functional comedy, largely because of the band’s capacity for stealth humor vis-à-vis substantial chops. But we can consider the known knowns:

The band’s mostly electronic cover of “Paranoid” is almost certainly a joke, apart from maybe the banjo interlude. Likewise for its boyz-will-be-boyz, recorded-in-a-coffee-can cover of Journey’s “Any Way You Want It.” But what about rap parody “We Want Weez-E?” Granted, Weasel Walter traffics in a proven commodity; body odor’s rock joke pedigree stretches back to “Odorono,” from The Who Sell Out. But might the drummer and vocalist’s foray into embarrassing hippie dad music constitute a secret Sun City Girls audition? Or is he just planning to move back to Chicago?

The other participants’ agendas are at least as murky. Are D.J. Barraca and Steve Rathbone abandoning Lair of the Minotaur’s serious exploration of Greek mythology to cash in on the comedy grind craze? Or, like Josh Diebel, Derek Swanson, and Toney Vast-Binder, have they simply been cozened by the lure of cheap electronics and the opportunity to make fun of Anal Cunt whenever? Only one thing is certain: Instrumental doom track “Wound, The (Gapeth Open)” demands a remix album." - Rod Smith

Season In Hell CD - "7000 Dying Rats = The Locust + Jenny Piccolo + Killwhitneydead
You know that kid you always saw talking to himself in school, the one that smelled funny and got beat up by the football players? Well, I’m convinced that 7000 Dying Rats is what you’d get if he learned to play guitar and started a grindcore band. They’re sick of being thrown into lockers and they’re just not taking it anymore. The great thing is, through all the pent-up anger and aggression, they just couldn’t get rid of the nerd inside them. Nestled snugly between the furious grind, there are obscure, misplaced samples, rap songs about smelly armpits, 70s rock complete with cowbell and mouth harp and the funniest cover of Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” that I’ve ever heard. There’s nothing serious about this band except the grind, and they do it very well." - Chris Carter.

Season In Hell CD - "The number of people who have played in this band/collective will soon outnumber those dying rats, so any kind of chemistry, or even knowing each other's names, seems virtually impossible. They're also a self-proclaimed 'comedy' band, which means you get lots of oddball song titles, which, brilliant as some might be ('We had "Dying" In Our Name Why Before All Those Metalcore Cocksuckers Came Along', anyone?), gets old really fast. Is comes as a surprise, then, that "Season In Hell" is actually a cohesive, tightly put together album. In fact, it's one of the only comedy grind albums in memory to do justice to the Brutal Truth/Pig Destroyer influences present in their music. The comedy aspect isn't overbearing and some of the songs really slay. The Scott Kelly keyboard-and-spoken-voice piece is only Neurosis-completist bait and there are way too many samples, but if you want a less serious grind band, 7000 Dying Rats might be your best bet. ." (6.5) - José Carlos Santos

Season In Hell CD - "Grindcore is one of those genres which causes my wife to ask if I'm ever going to grow up. I tell her that just because I've ended up a middle-class suburbanite doesn't mean I have to act like one. I fully embrace Ian MacKaye's lyric from "Minor Threat": "I might be an adult, I'm a minor at heart."

7000 Dying Rats exists as a studio entity formed by Steve Rathbone and D.J. Baraca who went on to form Lair of the Minotaur after 7KDR (7000 Dying Rats) decided to cease live performances. This musical aggregation has had many members over time, The current lineup consists of D.J. Barraca - guitar; Josh Diebel - lead vocals, samples, shakers, fish, pipes; Steve Rathbone - guitar, keyboards, samples, bass, harmonica, vocals; Derek Swanson - bass; Toney Vast-Binder - lead vocals, bass, keyboards, trombone, air organ, drums; and Weasel Walter - drums, vocals.

7KDR is part of the Hewhocorrupts, Inc. family which is home to such sonic adventurers as Tower of Rome, Holy Roman Empire, and Hewhocorrupts. True to grindcore form, Season in Hell is 28 tracks of musical mayhem with tracks from 21 seconds to 3 minutes and 51 seconds in length.

This release reminds me a lot of one of my favorite albums: Todd Rundgren's A Wizard, A True Star. Both albums are careening musical collages of noise and melody, although in 7KDR's case the melody belongs to some charming atonal violins on "Argument at Your Local Indie Record Store." "Altar of Goat Skulls", "Hack to Bits", "Bigfoot Destroy", and the hilariously titled "We had 'Dying' in our Name Way Before all Those Metalcore Cocksuckers Came Along" are blasts of make-your-ears-bleed grind.

There is even a weirdly, techno/electronica cover of Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" which somehow works. Some may think the record is too scattered and not focused enough, but I was entertained by the shifts from Pig Destroyer influenced grindcore to moody, mysterious keyboards to a really wacky rap, "We Want Weez-E," and even the brooding, acoustic "Your Studied Indifference is Duly Noted" which segues into the glorious grindcore of "Satanium Bloodlust."

This CD is not for everyone but if you're willing to take a chance and give it a listen you won't be disappointed and you might even enjoy it. If you are already familiar with 7KDR, make yourself another pot of coffee, put the headphones on, crank this baby up and get ready to be eviscerated." - Metal Dad

Season In Hell CD - "Hopped up on high-octane coffee, high on the herb, drunk on Wild Turkey, shuffling on Thorazine, you can take your pick as each will provide a state of mind at some point during the 28 tracks of grindcore and musical lunacy on 7000 DYING RATS' "Season in Hell". After a relatively long wait, the Detroit/Chicago collective, which counts in its membership Steve Rathbone (LAIR OF THE MINOTAUR) with his demon-toned riffs, unleash another bone-jarring and mind-fucking amalgam of grinding disorientation and compositional schizophrenia.

When the boys go for grind they grind with the best of 'em, bashing with abandon. Sometimes said grind is more of a knurled churn, at others a speedball of sonic dementia. And then there are all those other ingredients that give the album its wildly disconcerting aura. Violins scrape the eardrums and keyboards create cosmic chaos. Christ, there is even a loony hip-hop (the faux white boy kind) called "We Want Weez-E". A seemingly heartfelt, yet fully indicting "ballad" called "Your Studied Indifference is Duly Noted" gets thrown into the pit with cock rocker "Rock n Roll Weapon". One must not forget about a techno (with country picking section) version of BLACK SABBATH's "Paranoid" or the raucus 'n' raw (and presumably live) versions of JOURNEY's "Any Way You Want It" and JUDAS PRIEST's "Living After Midnight", both contained on a track called "Hellcatcher". NEUROSIS' Scott Kelly even gets into the act on "A Real Kneeslapper". How about this one for song title of the year: "We Had 'Dying' in our Name Way Before all those Metalcore Cocksuckers came along". It's bedlam I tell ya!

So it's not for everyone and the rat patrol wouldn't have it any other way. This thrown-into-a-blender style may no longer be revolutionary, but it sure as hell leaves an impression (as in dents in the skull and bloody stomach ulcers). Look for "Season in Hell" to be released as the soundtrack for the next IMMA (Independent Meth Manufacturers of America) convention." - Scott Alisoglu

Season In Hell CD - "What, the band name isn't convincing enough? Well then maybe soon-to-be grindcore classics like "Altar of Goat Skulls," "Death Hammer of the Bearded Ones" and "Balls of Bigotry" are enough to convince you? How about a rapid-fire cover of Black Sabbath's "Paranoid"?..." - Kurt Orzeck

Season In Hell CD - (Editor's Pick) -""Season In Hell” is an enhanced CD with some multimedia videos thrown on for good measure. But that’s not why you’ll buy this record. You’ll purchase this heavy slab of punk insanity because it will fucking turn your brains into banana pudding—rotten bananas mind you. Grindcore that isn’t afraid to be crusty, experimental, and thrashy in the vein of Brutal Truth and Jenny Piccolo. But don’t call them a copycat, indeed they’ve been blistering bodies for over a decade. Some of their members have played in such luminaries as My Lai, Cattle Decapitation, Flying Luttenbachers, and others. Having toured or shared the stage with such bands as Anal Cunt, Brutal Truth, Suffocation, Neurosis, Pelican, Wesley Willis, Motorhead, and Wolf Eyes you see how diverse of a crowd they attract. Tons of samples, keyboards, chainsaw sharp riffs, and slaughtered vocal shreds, “Season In Hell” is the heavy album of the year hands down." - J-Sin

Season In Hell CD - "First, let me say, this band totally slays Santa right in the throat, so you better recognize. There is probably some epic, long, drawn out history to 7000 Dying Rats. What I know is this disc seems to be a retrospective with a few new tunes. I am not certain if the band is still active. Two of the members, Steven Rathborne (sic) and Donald James Barraca went on to form the now mighty Lair of the Minotaur. Upon listening to this disc I could immediately see the precursor to the Lair.

The Thrash/Grind that 7000 Dying Rats pumps out is extreme. But wait, that’s not all this disc has to offer. There are 28 tracks chalk full of all kinds of wacky gooey metal cheese. Keyboard interludes remind me of an “Unsolved Mysteries” / Cold case files atmosphere, goofy lyrics have me splitting my gut, Eagles of Death Metal style rock ‘n’ roll never sounded so killer, and did I mention a unique cover of Paranoid. This all adds up to something super special not found in many bands today. Oh yeah, and there’s a rap about the drummers stinky, sweaty pits." - Andy Smyth

Season In Hell CD - "It’s been six years since The Sound of No Hands Clapping dropped, and Hewhocorrupts made a good decision in picking up 7000 Dying Rats. Their latest – Season in Hell – is an entertaining release even if it’s a tad too scatterbrained for its own good. Stylistically, 7DR play an eviscerating form of grindcore that, honestly, I wish I could’ve heard more of. When they’re not grinding, they put humor to use in true Crotchduster fashion, and that’s why SiH is at least somewhat disjointed.

With 28 tracks on tap, there’s quite a bit to digest. The most enjoyable tunes found on this long-player, however, are the grinders – “Altar of Goat Skulls,” “Hack to Bits,” the plodder “Bigfoot Destroy,” “Annihilator the Devastator,” “Satanium Bloodlust,” “Balls of Bigotry,” “Death Hammer of the Bearded Ones,” “Horrible,” “The Wound (Gapeth Open),” “We Had ‘Dying’ in Our Name Before All Those Metalcore Cocksuckers Came Along,” “Grind Fluffer,” etc. There are also several humorous tunes worth noting such as the clean-sung ballad “Your Studied Indifference is Duly Noted,” the pseudo-Candiria rap “We Want Weez-E,” southern rocker “Rock ‘N Roll Weapon,” electronica Black Sabbath cover “Paranoid,” and the Nintendo-esque “Ballad of Chico.” The remainder, I’m afraid, consists of pointless interludes. Selections known as “Argument at Your Local Indie Record Store,” “Eddie Money,” “Alzheimerz,” “Baby Crusher,” “Blondies,” “A Real Kneeslapper,” “Jesus Farted,” “Forced Boat,” “Funeral March,” “Hellcatcher,” and even “Outro” could be left by the wayside and Season in Hell would be better for it.

Typically I prefer my grind without humor and my humor without grind – lyrics aside – but 7000 Dying Rats keep each of the above-mentioned separated, which was a wise move on their part. Still, unless you’re a tolerant individual who doesn’t mind sitting through 30-second clips between longer bursts of grind, then you’ll most likely find yourself skipping through much of Season in Hell to get to the real meat. The replay value doesn’t seem to be too high either, though that’s a minor gripe in this case. Despite being a solid unit, I kept hoping 7DR would eventually quit fucking around, and, as they say, grind on. Maybe that’s just their allure, or more precisely, their shtick." - Jason Jordan

CD - If Anal Cunt’s Seth Putnam graduated sophomoric jokecore high school, he might start a band like 7000 Dying Rats. They have ludicrous song titles (“Argument At Your Local Record Store,” “Jesus Farted,” “We Had ‘Dying’ In Our Name Way Before All Those Metalcore Cocksuckers Came Along”). They interpolate their album with hip-hop send-ups and silly butt-rock covers, making good on their promise to churn out “an album full of inside jokes every couple of years,” in lieu of playing live. With 26 members from various Chicagoland and Detroit bands—including Lair Of The Minotaur, Invisible Witch and the lovably named Christpunchers—listed on their website (apparently Celtic Frost’s Tom G. Warrior plays “sword,” yeah right), it’s no wonder they seemingly suffer multiple personalities. (They list only six members in the CD booklet.)

Naturally, their “single,” “Hack To Bits,” sounds like a mess. They’ve clearly studied their Napalm Death and Naked City songbooks, and since this is technically full-length number three (they formed around ’92) they’ve perfected the mix. As a result, “Hack To Bits” is 84 seconds of competent blastbeats, incoherent lyrics and sculpted guitar static. It’s not eloquent, it doesn’t break any new ground, and it sounds exactly like what a band called 7000 Dying Rats should sound like. What else would you expect from a band who wrote a song called “Free Jazz (And Mumia)”?" - Kory Grow

Season In Hell CD - "For the first time in five years, and with just the singer left standing, these irony-clad, pantomined and prostituted grindcore riffing metal maniacs return with avant-garde alumni like Gatlin gun drummer Weasel Walters from the Flying Luttenbachers behind the cauldron. From what I understand, their earlier records were sly and “stoopid,” a comedic meld of mountainous metal cliché and post-modern, rusty razor, slice and dice antics. This is perhaps represented on the new album by the retarded rap “We Want Weez-E” or the bells and tinkers space-age jazz meets ambient soundtrack of “Balls of Bigotry,” not to neglect the folk ballad baiting, record store ennui of “Your Studied Indifference is Duly Noted.” In-between those extended jokes are grindstone nightmare maelstroms, like the ice cap melting “Altar of Goat Skulls” and easy prey “Eddie Money,” which line up besides the foaming mouth of rabid hate core “Death Hammer of the Bearded Ones.” It arrives right before the boogie woogie Sunset Strip, slippery slope cock-rock of “Rock n Roll Weapon,” though it ends in a free jazz freakout meets cinematic abomination, nothing less than a cut and paste mindf*ck.

Next, its back to bells and tinkers with the children’s anti-lullaby “Baby Crusher,” then the helter skelter sound collage of weird animal sounds and crying babies and drill bit drums of “Horrible.” The new age “Jesus Farted” arrives on a soft, out-of-date electronica cloud, whereas the inverted Blondie rock of “Ballad of Chico” could be anything off of Parallel Lines broken and melted over a whole new body of panic and pummels. It’s a new wave exorcism to segue into the raw live Journey mimicry of “Anyway You Want It,” which might be funny if it wasn’t already sanctified in Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle, a long lesson in irony itself. So, it’s a little too parody too late, but for those of you who need a little more Men’s Recovery Project in your life, then this album might be your best hope." (No name credited)

The Sound Of No Hands Clapping CD - "...I also think encouraging a band like 7000 Dying Rats is simply deplorable. The Sound Of No Hands Clapping (Tumult/Toyo) is album number two and their first one in four years, which isn't so bad. I mean, commercially releasing 70 minutes (or less) of this lame "death-grind" horseshit every forty-eight months isn't the most heinous crime fostered on humanity. Eh, what am I talking about - this shit is completely useless! Guess who makes his appearance as the new drummer? That's right, ol' numb nuts himself, Weasel Walter. Leave it to Chi-town's favorite scary fairy to take an already unimaginative band and make it over to a more hackneyed and embarrassing version of its former self. Lucky them." - Roland Woodbe

The Sound Of No Hands Clapping CD - " I was always really into Spazz and while I'll admit they could have worked a little harder at quality as opposed to quantity it's been a sad few years since they called it quits. Enter: 7000 D.R. a grind/fastcore band out of Chicago and maybe the only band i can think of currently matching up to the goofball antics of the departed S.F. legends. The live pic. says it all: the band dressed up like ninjas with the singer in a pair of red white and blue briefs and a sequined cape. Does this compare to great albums like "La Revenancha" [there's no way I didn't misspell that. someone correct me please] or "Crush Kill Destroy"? I can't say for sure but it comes damn close. [Their label bio suggests they'd probably be on Relapse if they stopped kidding around and I'd have to agree].

The Sound Of No Hands Clapping CD - "Part metal, part free form jazz, and all headache, 7000 Dying Rats have always done me right. At one point they made the mistake of associating themselves too close to Anal Cunt, but I can forgive them for that. For those unfamiliar with their sound, 7000 Dying Rats did the jerky rhythm change, one musical style to the next, song routine long before it was cool and overdone. This release features recordings from 1995 to the year 2000, fifteen different musicians (?) total!" - Scott Yahtzee

The Sound Of No Hands Clapping CD - "Let’s face it, metal in all its forms, be it death, glam, power, thrash, black, or rap can be downright funny. And what’s not to laugh at? Can I really take songs about Nordic frost giants fighting legions of Egyptian skeletal dragons seriously? Or, for that matter, mid-‘80s glam cock rocksters crooning about pussy and cars? Thank the dark lord that 7000 Dying Rats have returned with more metal terrorism than you can shake a BC Rich Warlock at. With song titles, “Congressional Death Metal of Honor,” “Lair of Deadly Gigantic Scorpions” and, my favorite, “Cocaine Keeps Me Thin & Sexy,” their new release, The Sound Of No Hands Clapping pays tribute, creates parody, spits in the face, tears apart and makes fun of everything that makes metal. Don’t get the idea that 7000 Dying Rats are just a joke parody band, they also write some of the best metal songs I’ve heard, though I think they do so on accident. The Rats keep alive a time of acid washed jeans, spiked bracelets, Funyons and badass mullets. Long live the Rats.
Reason to Buy: Do you remember Blondies? Then this record is already in your hands.
Best Listening Experience: The power metal wail of “Don’t F**k My Sister” and the Paul Stanleyesque “Paper Thin Lizzy” couldn’t make me stop giggling for days." - Monday Busque

The Sound Of No Hands Clapping CD - "7000 Dying Rats call their style "straight-up comedy grind," but to get picky, this album is only about 20 percent grindcore and, well, it's hard to say exactly how much of it is comedy. The rest is a loose hodgepodge of glam rock, low-budget black metal, tacky lounge-band funk, stage banter excerpts, tape montages, and even a brief hip-hop instrumental. It's all a big mess, and that's part of the album's charm. It actually works better this way than if it were all tightly constructed and executed à la Naked City — that approach to genre-jumping has been applied before (by 7000 Dying Rats themselves, even) and it's doubtful anyone is going to improve on what has already been done in that vein. That's not to say there couldn't have been some better editing here, since there is some filler (e.g., "I Blow Shits," which blends together the least redeeming aspects of A.C. and free improv while also managing to be the second longest track on the album). Not an appealing combo. But on the whole, the band does a good job of balancing their obnoxious side with a self-deprecating sense of humor. Plus, the grindcore/metal sections are in fact well-done (A.C. is again a reference point) and a couple of the few actual songs — "Strippers on Ecstasy" and "Paper Thin Lizzy" — are catchy (and stupidly funny) enough to almost justify the price of admission on their own. In any case, 7000 Dying Rats are doing their own thing here, and this is a fun album provided the listener has a sense of humor and a short attention span." - William York

The Sound Of No Hands Clapping CD - "7000 Dying Rats are special, in the retarded sense of the word. They could be so fucking huge if they would just stop fucking around so much and get straight to business and start taking themselves a bit more serious and kick out their bad ass brutal grindcore like we know that they are capable off and stop playing around making too many in-jokes that will inevitably be their downfall. One too many jokes and people lose interest, like myself. Sure, I think that it's necessary to have a sense of humor, especially in a genre that is especially known for masking it's humor with too much blood and guts, et al. and the Dying Rats seemed to be able, in the past, of tempering the ear grating damage with a bit of a laugh and a poke of fun at all those oh so serious death metal/grind heads. I was immediately hooked by their first album (the amazing "Fanning the Flames of Fire") the first time I heard the song "Train Come To Town, Make Town Dirty" and still listen to that album with regularity. I was especially happy when Mssr. Walker handed over to me his 3x 7"ep box set of the Dying Rats knowing that I would be a happy lad with it in my possession. When I heard that there was a new release out I went to Aquarius the next day and bought it, took it home and listened to it immediately. Honestly, I was a bit disappointed. With their past releases there was plenty of jokes and silly little bits and songs but overall the album, on the whole, was nothing but a brutal mindfuck as the Rats laid down nuclear devastated grind carpet bombs from beginning to end. This time around they've left the bombers at home and have chosen to get even sillier than before leaving me no choice but to program the player to skip over absolute crap like "Strippers on Ecstacy" and the less than fortunate (due to crappy recording quality and the sense that this is Naked City's retarded little brothers jamming after huffing paint thinner) "I Blow Shits." Now don't get me too wrong and think that I'm blowing them off and have lost interest in them because that's just not the case. In reality, there are some serious mind numbing grind pieces (the devastating "This Close", the riff ruling, lead melodies fuck of "Gangly Dominion Over Your Corpse", the slow stomach churning "A Letter From the Gas Company (You're Fucking Dead)" and the god domineering of "Uncle Tom's of Finland") on this cd that puts to shame just about every band making attempts at being brutal and evil and various mixtures thereof, I just wish that they would've stuck to this material and left off all the unnecessary crap ("You Carry My Jock Like the World On Your Shoulders" and "A Rats Ass (Judas Priestly)" a tribute (?) to the Beverly Hills 90210 theme(!!)) and don't even get me started on the unfortunate "Straight Up Comedy Grind"!!!). I don't know but maybe it all has something to do with the fact that they have a different singer these days? I'm not sure if it's someone new or not but the vocals are attributed to someone other than the overly fucked up King Salmon and I'm thinking that maybe... ?? All I know is that next time I'll wait a bit before rushing out to acquire anything new by them. Sorry guys but in the future maybe you should listen to yr masters under sober conditions before sending 'em off to be pressed." - wr

*
The Sound Of No Hands Clapping CD - "It takes a lot of...well guts maybe, to be a fucking ultra-tight, super brutal grind metal powerhouse and to purposefully alienate/annoy a huge legion of possible fans by not taking your metal seriously enough: by telling jokes, talking about cocks, mocking the sense-of-humourless metalheads you find yourself playing in front of, having skits, mixing in 80s hair metal, and synth pop and just being generally silly and goofy (but still totally killer musically, not just a "well, we can't play that well anyway" joke).
This is record number two from the Rats (following 'Fanning the Flames of Fire', a joint release between Caroline and Chicago's Up Jumps the Devil) and it's a doozy. Imagine the spazz inflicted genre hopping of Mr. Bungle, only more black metal and Venom, more Thin Lizzy, more comedy and more like your older hesh brother that's been working at the 7-11 since he dropped out of high school. The jokes are funny (kind of) and the music is punishing and furiously brutal (when it's not silly and moronic). With song titles like "Gary Drug Abusey", "Uncle Tom's of Finland", "Paper Thin Lizzy", "Straight Up Comedy Grind" and an 80's metal cover of the theme song to Beverly Hills 90210 (with a 90210 sample poking fun at fellow midwestern grinder Weasel Walter -- he of the Flying Luttenbachers, Lake of Dracula and Hatewave, among others), you might be inclined to pass off 7KDR as a novelty item -- but take out the comedic element, and you'd have a hellish, brutal metal record, better than most of their more serious minded contemporaries. I mean, if they dropped their comedy schtick and just played straight up grind/metal, they would be huge. Probably on Relapse, and selling hundreds of thousands of records. But thanks to those guts, they're on tUMULt, and Toyo and they're liable to sell more than a thousand records!!! Fans of Anal Cunt, Pig Destroyer, Drop Dead, Agoraphobic Nosebleed, Dying Fetus, Bathtub Shitter, Fuck...I'm Dead, Mr. Bungle, Faxed Head and Neil Hamburger will love this." (No name credited)

*We know Aquarius is a record store and they are trying to sell our record, but we thought it was a nice description anyway.

The Sound Of No Hands Clapping CD - ""Straight Up Comedy Grind", the tenth track on this wacky wacky album by Chicago's 7000 Dying Rats aptly describes what you'll get by listening to this album. A synopsis of the first four songs will give you a good window in what you can expect. The album starts off with a cheesy, creepy clip, that features spooky, apocalyptic spoken word about rats. The clip segues into ripping grind. Just when you think you're getting the picture to what this album is all about, the action breaks, and you're presented with the shitty, dancy number "Strippers on Ecstasy". "A Rat's Ass (Judas Priestly)" continues the goofiness with alternating crust, disco, and amusingly stupid sound clips (from what I think is "The Graduate") that have been blatantly altered. Yup, this album is really fuckin' stupid, but really enjoyable. Technically, the grind parts are top-notch, thanks in part to the drumming of Hatewave's (reviewed in issue 2) Weasel Walter. What makes this album super fun are the ridiculous transitions from hammering crust to catchy, lame ass disco shit, and all sorts of other off the wall stuff. The Sound of No Hands Clapping will definitely appeal to the fuck-it-all, random, be cool being stupid, yet at the same time not-care-if-anyone-notices part of you. Put your critically thinking brain away and you'll get a bunch of quality laughs out of this latest addition from the never disappointing Tumult label." - Roberto

Feeling Good, Feeling Spry! 7" - "The hyper noise kids are cramming about 20 songs on a single, beginning with a crew of geriatrics reminiscing about hardcore while Combustible Edison rolls daintily along in the background. For originals, the five 7000 Dying Rats blast Boredoms-inspired metal noise. With all the comic interludes, potential exists for this group to become a marketable television show once noise and terrorist garb finally break - Ian Christe
Fanning the Flames of Fire CD - A fever dream starring two superconductors a chainsaw and a clown with 12 mouths; also exists on 7000 levels of irony, meta-textual references and self-hatred. (Hecklers with pens prefer the term "genre-jumping noise.") Apparent Slayer influence." - Aaron Burgess

Fanning the Flames of Fire LP - "This is a review of the LP version of this. The CD version (on Invisible Records) is pretty different, with some alternate (and more) songs in a completely different order. Fortunately both versions contain the cut "ANAL CUNT Is Gay," which should win an award for funniest song title ever. And they also do an insane Vegas Lounge Act / John Zorn version of VENOM’s "Sacrifice" that’s only on the LP, thus making it a must have. This description of their VENOM cover is pretty accurate for the majority of the LP. It’s a crazy juxtaposition of styles and sounds that parodies and roasts everything you can imagine, all filtered through an "evil" context. And the accompanying "press release" about this album is a photocopy of an old MANOWAR news letter, with "MANOWAR" whited out and "7000" handwritten in its place. A sense of humor is sort of a rare find these days, so I’ll give ‘em credit there, and conceptually I love this band, but like the aforementioned John Zorn, this can be something of a challenge to listen to, so I’m not sure how often I’ll spin it, which makes assigning a rating pretty fuckin’ tough, but what the shit." - 8 - Ray

Fanning the Flames of Fire CD - "An insane trip, each of Fanning the Flames of Fire's 35 tracks features someone screaming at the top of their lungs — and only a select few clock in over a minute. 7000 Dying Rats have a wacked-out grindcore sound that is not only heavily influenced by the projects of legendary saxophonist John Zorn, but there's also a huge homage to metal, even if it seems like they're making a parody of it. Despite their tributes, there's not one ounce of seriousness that comprises 7000 Dying Rats, making Fanning the Flames of Fire much more of an enjoyable earful with songs like "As Narcissus Catches His Own Reflection in the Party Ball" and "Ozzy Looked Like Bea Arthur on the Ultimate Sin Tour."" - Mike DaRonco

Fanning the Flames of Fire CD - "Trash culture not only exists in circles like hillbilly punk and surf rock, but also ever-increasingly in bands that are very much art rock. Though the grindcore label would make more sense, the actual musicianship and genius of 7000 Dying Rats takes precedence over the pummel. There are 99 tracks of whine, gurgle, hilarity and fast-as-hell screaming punk rock on this essential disc. Song titles "My Nordic Butt Can Rule Nations" and "Bands That Play Funk Blow" are examples of their wry sense of humor. To describe the actual sounds produced, one must believe that mixing harmonica, keyboards and "cookie-monster" vocals don't equal a bad mash! Customary song structures exist, too, so it's not as hard to listen to as something like The Boredoms or Ruins. The band does a worthy job of taking a fully mixed bowl, and producing a fucked, but digestive monument of aggressive progressive rock." - Mike Meyer

Fanning the Flames of Fire CD - "Yeah, the scene is rife with irreverence, but armed with song titles "My Nordic Butt Can Rule Nations," "Paul Stanley's Chest," "Ozzy Looked Like Bea Arthur on the Ultimate Sin Tour," and "Bands That Play Funk Blow," 7000 Dying Rats kick the crutches of Metal out from under themselves. Meanwhile, the music is totally alinear grind that jumps from mind-numbing terminal metal, to Germanic Free Jazz squeals, to Parisian street music to extended vocal samples. Anything to amuse, annoy or offend. They are the musical equivalent of shoving autopsy photos and copies of Terrorizer and Mad Magazine through a paper shredder." - (no name credited)

June 24th, Burmese, 7000 Dying Rats, The Quixotic, Magic Markers, Joshua Plague, and Control R Workshop at Kimo's - "...The whole show was worth seeing if only for 7000 Dying Rats, from Chicago. These guys were nuts, and had a strong predeliction (sic) for baring their asses. Six of 'em dressed in these Ninja black hoods and shit, they started off with a lame, painful rendition of "Feels Like the First Time", apologized for it, and then launched into a wild set with the two vocalists doing deep screaming and there was lots of heavy crazy guitar and much stage movement. It was great to see them slamming the audience; they were easily the most exciting band of the night..." - KsKelly

" This band's status as a Chicago institution means it's no big deal that they haven't played out in about three years--by now it's easy to assume they're never gonna go away for good. Considering they acquired that status by smirking in the self-serious face of death metal via slaphappy dick jokes and general half-assery, it's entirely appropriate that tonight's record release gig, supposedly their only show anywhere to promote the new Season In Hell (Hewhocorrupts), is happening two months before the album actually comes out. Fortunately, you can count on metal geeks to leak like giant pissing cupid statues -- someone's put an advance copy up online, and it's a monster. That's always been 7KDR's MO: letting you suspect they're only in it for laughs, then blowing you the fuck away. Hewhocorrupts and Plague Bringer open." - Monica Kendrick

"With the exception of perhaps “brutal,” the most overused adjective in metal has to be the word “extreme.” Its misuse is based on the fact that it is casually and liberally applied to any act that is louder or faster or more hateful than, say, Journey, which pretty much applies to every metal band in history that isn’t named Winger. To be truly extreme an act has to surpass the acceptable, and in the pounding, thrashing, headbanging world of metal, that means breaking some rules, some heads, and some covenants between the performers and the fans.

It is safe to say that the Chicago/Indiana* band 7000 Dying Rats is genuinely extreme, as its infrequent performances over the last 15 years have subjected its gloriously long-suffering fans to harsh, pummeling grindcore mixed with everything from disco to prop comedy to free jazz drumming to weirdness that would make Captain Beefheart scratch his head. It seems like virtually every local musical prankster has played with the group’s rotating cast over the years (it may actually have close to 7,000 ex-members at this point), but if its newest recordings and YouTube videos are any indication, this may be its most musically powerful lineup yet. Its newest release, Season in Hell, is the best of its three albums, as (despite the trademark absurdist lyrics) it sounds more like a “real” metal record than its previous efforts. But don’t expect a straightforward concert, as these rodents have certainly been working up some new tricks in the years since their last appearance. Expect something extreme. And brutal." - Jake Austin

"Describing its music as "comedy grind," 7000 Dying Rats leads a subgenre of which it may be the only member. Its music leans more toward "grind" than "comedy," with hyper-speed beats, droning synthesizers, and metallic guitars backing full-throated (and supposedly funny) lyrics. The song titles from the new Season In Hell - released at this show - more clearly illustrate Rats' humor: "Your Studied Indifference Is Duly Noted," "Annihilator The Devastator," "Jesus Farted", "The Wound (Gapeth Open) ," etc. The album mixes crushing grind with goofy one-off tracks like a high-speed cover of Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" and silly ballad mocking condescending record-store clerks. (Wow, way to go after the sacred cows!) This is 7000 Dying Rats' first Chicago appearance appearance in more than three years. Opening: Hewhocorrupts, Plague Bringer." - Lisa Cramton-Wexton

You'll never see a write-up of 7000 Dying Rats without some mention of their song titles, so why buck the trend? "Cocaine Keeps Me Thin and Sexy," "Bands That Play Funk Blow," and "Open the Realm (I left My Keys in There)" are a few choice examples of the Chicago band's skill in that department. Musically, they blend Anal Cunt-style grindcore, falsetto-stricken glam rock, bad penis jokes, and the occasional hapless lounge-funk jam into an obnoxious yet oddly charming entertainment smorgasbord. They call their style "straight-up comedy grind," although drummer Weasel Walter has promised less comedy and more grind this time around. We'll see. Tonight 7000 Dying Rats play at the Covered Wagon Saloon with Cattle Decapitation, Watch Them Die, Vulgar Pigeons, Severed Savior, Carneceria, and Morbosidad..." - William York

"Listening to a tape of 7000 Dying Rats is the auditory equivalent of getting run over by a semi. But that's a good thing. In the sea of predictable noise bands that the area's burgeoning, labyrinthine experimental indie scene is spawning, the Rats are an oasis of unpredictability and humor. That's because these noise freaks know no bounds: At any given time, you're liable to hear acoustic guitar plunkings next to death metal riffs, funky jazz grooves alternating with pure, unadulterated noise. In less capable hands you might get an incoherent mess, but the Rats, crack musicians all, perform a kind of sonic alchemy, deftly turning noise into gold. It's still a mess, mind you-but what a glorious mess it is! And, best of all, they have a sense of humor ("Norway is Gay," about the scarily fervent Norwegian death metal scene, "My Nordic Butt Can Rule Nations," "Bands That Play Funk Blow"), something that's entirely too rare these days." - Lisa Cramton-Wexton