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Since we last heard from Washington's favorite punker party wreckers, they've have undergone a personnel change and quietly released a couple of limited cassettes but, most importantly, they have finally solidified themselves as a focused force of destruction hell bent on destroying any preconceived notions of what "hardcore" is supposed to be. Rest assured the deep disdain and power are still present but they've zeroed in on a path and stomp boldly forward. They've turned up the noise and the confusion a notch or 5 too without sacrificing any of the rage either. Damn, this one is mean. Life is mean. Life is NASTI.
Our take: It’s been four years since Nasti’s previous LP for Iron Lung came out. They’ve dropped a few limited cassettes in the interim and undergone some lineup changes, but this new 12” shows them no worse for the wear. Besides being from the label’s home state, Nasti fits right in with Iron Lung’s roster of original, forward-thinking hardcore bands. While there are some ignorant, wall-demolishing riffs on Life Is Nasti that might remind you of their label mates Gag, they counterbalance those crowd-pleasing riffs with a propensity to get loose. Just listen to the way the opening track, “Self Sucker,” alternates between a locked-in, almost industrial-sounding march and another section where the guitars wander off into space. This tug of war continues for Life Is Nasti’s entire 15-minute runtime, taking in moments like the triumphant, guitar-solo-over-mosh-part in “Stud Gods” to my favorite part of the record, the bit in “Lip Licker” where Nasti lays down a gripping melodic line composed entirely of feedback. Fucking wicked.
Our take: It’s been four years since Nasti’s previous LP for Iron Lung came out. They’ve dropped a few limited cassettes in the interim and undergone some lineup changes, but this new 12” shows them no worse for the wear. Besides being from the label’s home state, Nasti fits right in with Iron Lung’s roster of original, forward-thinking hardcore bands. While there are some ignorant, wall-demolishing riffs on Life Is Nasti that might remind you of their label mates Gag, they counterbalance those crowd-pleasing riffs with a propensity to get loose. Just listen to the way the opening track, “Self Sucker,” alternates between a locked-in, almost industrial-sounding march and another section where the guitars wander off into space. This tug of war continues for Life Is Nasti’s entire 15-minute runtime, taking in moments like the triumphant, guitar-solo-over-mosh-part in “Stud Gods” to my favorite part of the record, the bit in “Lip Licker” where Nasti lays down a gripping melodic line composed entirely of feedback. Fucking wicked.