• Hellfish - Meat Machine Broadcast System

    Reviewed by sheikh ahmed (absorb.org)

    Hellfish - Meat Machine Broadcast System

    we enjoy skull-splitting demonic mental-as-fuck hardcore techno just as much as the next person, ask our neighbours. but while the concept of listening to this most extreme form of music on a daily basis may not seem particularly enticing (after all it does induce a headache after a while), essex-based producer hellifish has no problem in churning out what could be described as the musical work of satan. musically, hardcore techno could be seen as
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  • Hellfish - Meat Machine Broadcast System

    Reviewed by Steve Crognale (OTV)

    Hellfish - Meat Machine Broadcast System

    Some people have decided to hate on hardcore techno no matter how good it is...THIS REVIEW IS NOT FOR YOU. For those of you that still need proof that there are some original thinkers in the genre, check out the new Hellfish CD. It's a compilation of his various singles released over time - a varied yet primal mix of old school hip-hop samples, turntablist flash, beats chopped up jungle style, and bass kicks drilling a hole in your head. Proof of the
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  • hellfish: meat machine broadcast system

    Hellfish - Meat Machine Broadcast System

    Reviewed by sheikh ahmed (absorb.org)

    Hellfish - Meat Machine Broadcast System

    we enjoy skull-splitting demonic mental-as-fuck hardcore techno just as much as the next person, ask our neighbours. but while the concept of listening to this most extreme form of music on a daily basis may not seem particularly enticing (after all it does induce a headache after a while), essex-based producer hellifish has no problem in churning out what could be described as the musical work of satan.

    musically, hardcore techno could be seen
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  • Hellfish

    Hellfish - Meat Machine Broadcast System

    Reviewed by Kingsley Marshall (all music guide)

    Hellfish - Meat Machine Broadcast System

    As drum'n'bass took itself ever more seriously, so the likes of Hellfish and his brethren have thrived with a crazed, steroid-pumped vision of breakbeat punk. This second album of chaos for Mike Paradinas' imprint is a jackboot-wearing stomp through pile-driving beats, razor-wire basslines, skull-crunching feedback, and unforgiving sampling of vast tracts of hip-hop. The titles alone belie the material's subversiveness, with "Guerrillas on the Piss"
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