The inventors of the ‘D-beat’ (skull, meet sledgehammer), and the first band other than Motörhead that punk and metal kids could both agree were pretty rad, Discharge are ragged survivors of Reagan/Thatcher-era hardcore, shell-shocked doom-shouters still fairly obsessed with nuclear fear.
As with any band formed back in ‘77, not everyone survived to see this (End) day, but classic Discharge fans should note that the current incarnation features founders Tezz and Rainy and 80s-era guitarist Bones in their ranks. Even the new guy, vocalist JJ, did his time in Discharge off-shoot Broken Bones. So this is no bullshit faux-Discharge album, this is as close to the real thing as you can possibly get. And it sounds like it.
If we can nearly skip past their disastrous mid-80s dip into glam and the endless scab-crew bullshit in the 90s, End Of Days falls somewhere around 1982’s Hear Nothing, See Nothing, Say Nothing album in sheer ferocity, stark imagery, and ugly violence. When the most accessible cut on the album is called Raped And Pillaged, you know you’re in for a white-knuckled ride.
