The raw, masculine swagger of Scissorfight has lost none of its power over this New England group's eight-year history. In fact, this five-track EP easily makes the case that these guys have only gotten cooler. Despite a brief hiatus, Scissorfight are still ahead of the curve when it comes to gutbucket shit-rock and, channeling equal parts of the Melvins' thudding dissonance and the thick, redneck riffage of Masters of Reality, the band continues to defy "stoner-rock" pretense by delivering tight, groove-oriented rawk. Of course, being from New England, you'd think Scissorfight would be engaging in some sort of post-modern irony meltdown. And they may very well be. (A deeper listen to "Running the Risk of Raining Buffalo" gives some hints to the group's above-average intelligence.). But what matters at the end of the day is that these guys sound like they're dumbasses who don't care about anything but crystal meth and rockin' out. Which is what this world needs a lot more of.
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