Sloshing guitar rhythms pour over the drum machine (the bass is inaudible) on these weirdly memorable and utterly forgettable songs of distorted, mic swallowing wallop that sound mostly influenced by Mortician, the nearest associative model, but are also punkish and share some similarities with the upbeat joyrides of Chicago's Macabre. But even as I recall the catchiness of certain songs, I have no impulse to re-expose myself to the actual recording, and yet it's far from being so sticky as to annoy like the average pop song; the album simply has no gas whatsoever. A full band, a more witty sense of the morbid (usually the only thing that gives the listener any reward from this stale genre) and tidying up of the looser performances that are ineffectively covered up by the muddy production could bring out those elements of songwriting that, still hopelessly stuck in niche and cliché, show a knack for catchy riffs. But ultimately this seems like a dead end to me and these suggestions might be better applied to another project at another time.