In, explode, out. It's the best way of getting your message across should you be sufficiently teeth on edge post-hardcore, and with their twenty minute sets it's something Ice, Sea, Dead People - even they admit they regret that name, but IT'S TOO LATE NOW - understand intimately. The London via Bedford trio take their lead from Fugazi and Q And Not U, twisting taut distorted riffery and hyperkinetic arrythmic understanding into two and a half minute nuggets of splintered, pummelling staccato and most importantly loud art-punk, leaving untold aural damage in its wake. Their debut album, mastered by Bob Weston of Shellac, is out soonish on the reliable Smalltown America, who understand the value of such a thing.
Ice, Sea, Dead People - Hence: Elvis