Yambag has delivered one of the most chaotic, brain-melting albums I’ve heard in a while. Even as someone who loves punk and aggressive, erratic music, I found this to be an absolutely brutal 10-minute listening experience. From start to finish, the album is an unrelenting assault on the senses, pushing the boundaries of just how abrasive and chaotic hardcore can get.  

The intensity is undeniable, but so is the messiness. The blast beats are relentless, pounding away without any real sense of groove or structure—just pure, unfiltered sonic aggression. At times, the bass tries to inject some semblance of rhythm into the madness, but it quickly gets swallowed up by the sheer chaos of the drums. The guitars are perhaps the harshest element here, emitting sharp, squeaky, high-pitched tones that are downright painful on the ears. It’s the kind of sound that might work in the raw energy of a live show, where the physicality of the performance and the communal energy of the crowd could make it an exhilarating experience. But on record, it feels overwhelming to the point of being almost unlistenable.  

By the midway point, I found myself physically tensing up from the sheer wall of noise. The album doesn’t give you any breathing room—it’s just a constant barrage of sound that doesn’t let up. Honestly, I even felt a bit of a headache creeping in while listening, which is a testament to how sonically intense this record is.  

That said, there are a couple of redeeming qualities. The vocals are actually solid—they’re layered well and cut through the mix in a way that doesn’t feel as disjointed as the instruments. There’s a raw energy in the delivery that fits the chaos, making them one of the few elements that didn’t completely lose me. And then there’s the final track—an unexpected, trippy, psychedelic-influenced outro that serves as a much-needed breath of fresh air. After nearly 10 minutes of unrelenting sonic destruction, that ending felt like stepping out of a burning building into a cool breeze.  

Overall, this album is an acquired taste. If you’re into ultra-raw, chaotic, and noisy hardcore with zero compromise, this might be right up your alley. But if you’re looking for something with even a hint of groove or structure, this is a tough one to sit through.