GROTBAGS

THE NEW ALBUM AT LAST HITS RACKS!!!!

Pissed Yourself Again Records is proud to unveil their latest signing, the sub-Polish principled grind band GROTBAGS, with a vicious and relevant CD.

Born in an abandoned Duhr Valley industrial estate by vocalist Tax State Murder (ex-DO ME A FAVOUR) and maniac drummer Crippled 3rd World Economy (who bashed major skins on 'There Is Absolutely No Way You Will Ever Be Released From This Shitty Fucken Nightmare', debut 7" by Jappo-Scandinavian crust nutters SHITFUCKPISS?), GROTBAGS instantly recorded a cover of bovver-oi classic 'Nob Off Maggie' by TWAT THE BARRISTER and were subsequently accused of being racist bloody Poles.

But they weren't, and they proved it with the landmark-defining very left-wing classic 'The War Isn't Finished In Our Heads Yet' LP on the Embarrassing Rash label. Benefit tours followed with the likes of RAT INFESTED DEPOT, THE HEART ATTACK NIXONS, BODGED EXTENSION, SUFFERPRAT and CHILDREN WHO SLEEP WITH HAND GRENADES BY FORCE.

Then all of a sudden tragedy struck in 2006 when bassist and activist Revolting Human Cost (ex-WE THINK OIL IS THE MOTIVE) got arrested for passing betting slips in Hyde Park and being drunk in charge of a petrol-driven lawnmower and asked for five other amusing 1950s-style crimes to be taken into consideration, including pilfering from the Christmas Club money and scrumping.

Released from prison in time for the last Indiana Jones film, Revolting walked straight into the recording of the much-awaited Grotbags sophomore debut, the majestically dismal 'Discarded Limbs Still Butter The Anus Of War'. Legendary activist Swampy turns up to do guest haranguing on track hundred and nine, 'Don't Say Yes To These Bastards With Your Apathy', while the artwork was designed specially for the band by Mother Nature, who delayed the first rays of spring so she could do all the stencilling round the edges by hand.

Promotion is being done by rhythm guitarist Sodding Corporate Scheme (ex-GRATIA PAYMENT), who can be reached on 081-811-8181 during dole hours.

EXPLOITATIVEjpeg

Ex-husband and wife power electronics duo EXPLOITATIVEjpeg first realised they could kick up a racket when their neighbours reported them to the police. In the midst of an acrimonious divorce they worked on their debut album 'Frequently Coerced Into All Sorts Of Unpleasantness', the title track of which was cited as evidence in court. Every track was based on one of the many domestic arguments that they recorded and catalogued; the punishing frequencies of 'I Said I Wanted To Watch Fucking Newsnight' segued neatly into the brooding ambient hum of 'My Mother Was Right About You', culminating in the sparse, disturbing epic 'Take The Kids (They're Not Mine Anyway)'.

And now, despite the restraining order, they're back together on the album they were contractually obliged to complete.

So on either this or next Valentine's Day (haha!) Battered To A Crisp Records will release two identically-shaped mp3 EPs: 'Walked Into A Door' and 'Pushed Down The Stairs'. They will come packaged with free his and hers boxes of tissues, and an ironic plastic toy like in a Kinder Egg.

CANI5+3R TIT BITZ

* Dr One was hatched wrong out of a mechanical womb producing servo-drones for the Campus of the Goat on the east side of Hell, Planet Bastard. A pint of male eggnog fell into the machine, which spawned Dr One (The Drone): part-manimal, part-machine, half-genius, half-idiot hybrid. From his genitals hang complex mechanical circuitry. He lived most of his life on his home world in a giant skip, where he met his first guitar. They married, and went on to forge a loving but consensually violent relationship. They have six lovely guitar pedals and an amp.

* Clanx was the son of a rebel chieftain on the lawless wasteland, bad-side of Checkpoint Grind. From a young age he became interested in gibberish propaganda, spreading discord with confusion and seriously brassing off the establishment by yammering balls in a confrontational style. This was at a time when yammering balls in a confrontational style was strictly forbidden by the authorities. He held poetry-reading seminars round the back of the Factories, where his anthems of nonsense rebellion baited the rulers of the bleak, scaffolded world of Bastard and Boris and the Baggage Handlers.

* Dr One first met Clan X when Clanx took shelter in Drone's skip when he went into hiding after releasing a radically abstract pamphlet warning the population about The Haystack Problem. The Powers That Be had ruled The Haystack Problem as an Official Misnomer, despite the hard evidence that haystacks were gulping up the tiny commuter-landmass of Eyeland. The real reason for the blackout, of course, was the role that Tesco played in the whole affair.

* 'The Canister Machine' was a primitive electro-mechanical instrument containing sampled percussion noises, which Clanx used to punctuate his more elaborate pronouncements. When he leapt into Drone's Skip, the machine started to wheeze and clatter and grind. Despite the fact that ravenous Baggage Handlers were searching the quadrant, the pair were startled and entranced by the sound, and resolved to form an experimental surrealist industrial grind combo.

* They hot-wired what they thought was a silver oil tanker and headed for Checkpoint Grind, bad-side. But the silver oil-tanker turned out to be a flying canister that went anywhere in time and space. This was the Hybernizer, a semi-sentient slow travel machine much spoken of in Bastardian technomythology circles. Although thoroughly reliable as a road-going heavy goods vehicle, its time travel circuits are fizzing bonkers. A bit like the TARDIS, but not close enough to trouble any legal representatives.

* The first world visited by the Hybernizer was Earth, in the year of their Lord 1992. The Hybernizer was wounded in transit by a squadron of airborne Baggage Handlers, tenacious little bleeders at the best of times ("It's random survival out there," said Drone as the lasers hurtled past the wing mirrors), but the Hybernizer broke the grind barrier and tumbled into a field near the Farnborough Air Show, unnoticed due to the Red Arrows.

* Baggage Handlers are made of shadow matter. They are squat mercenaries favoured by Boris who resemble silhouettes of very short, very wide men in trench coats and trilbies. Nobody has ever heard them speak, but they communicate psychically in American accents and make a kind of soft 'swooshing' sound. On the planet Bastard, is not rare for so-called 'undesirables' to be visited in the small hours by Baggage Handlers, who crawl through terraces and ransack bedrooms looking for the flimsiest evidence of what they call 'shite', which includes any kind of non-state-approved art and music.

* Boris has ruled the planet Bastard since the war that nobody can remember. He is eternal, and never seen, though rumours persist that for the past half-epoch he has communicated only through beeping.