Butcher Mind Collapse
Sick Sex And Meat Disasters In A Wasted Psychic Land

They come from the boot, from Jesi to be precise, but, to be honest, they're not even too happy to be Italian. Without wanting to blaspheme, the label of Velvet Underground of Italy would suit them perfectly. Four young people from the suburbs angry with the world, singing about the crap that surrounds them.

Convinced catastrophists, they speak of dark landscapes that seem to be painted with the macabre brush of Nick Cave. This “Sick Sex and Meat Disasters in a Wasted Psychic Land” tells of the psychological, emotional, and cultural collapse of our capitalist civilization and of, to quote them, “beings who once were human, exasperated, deranged, devoted to abomination and self-destruction.” The perverse cover is the perfect calling card for what you’ll find inside: a grueling tragicomedy that narrates humanity on the brink of the abyss. The four from the Marche region shoulder the heavy legacy of all the singers of discomfort and alienation, from Jim Morrison and Lou Reed to the aforementioned Nick Cave, to colleague Tom Waits and even to the Cramps, to embark on this journey into the depths of evil.

A point-blank debut for these Butcher Mind Collapse, lasting barely twenty minutes but managing to make an impact nonetheless. The soundtrack to this apocalypse could not have been anything but the most insane thing produced in Italy since the days of Ferretti, despite the reduced-to-the-bone lineup (there is no bass, only two eardrum-crushing guitars). A ramshackle no-wave heavily influenced by groups like Contortions, Suicide, Pere Ubu, Captain Beefheart, and Birthday Party and made even sharper by the usual excellent production by Italy's King Midas Giulio Ragno Favero provides the perfect sonic backdrop on which singer Jonathan, a sort of Italy's Iggy Pop, can unleash all his fury, as seen in the violence and intensity of his performances. A music "anti-avant-garde and anti-intellectualistic," as they like to describe it, which often spills into the grotesque and the most macabre cynicism.

And if you ask these four crazies about their future projects, they answer “to rape Hillary Clinton.” After Lleroy, these Butcher Mind Collapse confirm: the Marche are on fire.