I was just demonstrating, for my rapt daughters, the old “UN… EWWW… EEEEE… AWWWW” way of counting off the beginning of a song, and I think that if any band deserves such a count-off before every song, it’s Dauðyflin. These three-gals-and-0ne-guy AREN’T MESSING AROUND. I love what they do with (to?) hardcore punk-rock, Ofbeldi’s scorched-earth policy plowing over the past recklessly and practically without respect to what came before. I haven’t heard a band tear the wings off the plane that got them here this eagerly since the earliest days of the Cerberus column, when I’d not even heard of Iron Lung Records or any of the hundreds of bands I’d reveal through hundreds of posts in subsequent years. I understand the migration to Mixtapes and Soundcloud and all that, but I hope some of you still search for surges in the force like this quartet from Reykjavík, Iceland. The songs really benefit from the 45 RPMs too, as clear and crisp as they can reasonably be considering what Dauðyflin stand for (and sound like). And I haven’t heard screaming this passionate (admittedly outside of other Iron Lung releases) in years from a primarily punk vehicle. I recorded a song with my brother and sister years ago and tried to get my vocals to sound like this, but I resorted to echo and other tricks; this mix/performance is much more correct and raw than I managed to be. What more is there to say? Hardcore, Okie Dokie (god almost got through this review without mentioning them), Twin Stumps (?), Fields Of Shit (?), and a cloud of dust; such is a rare treat in the life of a late thirties mainstream dropout like myself. Join the club!
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