DRUGS OF FAITH

President George W. Bush's war in the Middle East has sure given many politically minded extreme music acts loads of material to wrap around a violent amalgam of drums, bass, and guitars. One needs only to view the cover art of Northern Virginia's DRUGS OF FAITH to determine that the grindy crust trio is not pleased with the world's state of affairs. With an ominous ghost figure in the background, the eyes and nose of which contain the symbols of the Islamic, Jewish, and Christian faiths, respectively, and George W. holding up a spurting syringe, the stage is set for DRUGS OF FAITH's caustic array of crust punk vitriol and grindcore insanity.

The band's debut EP on Poland's Selfmadegod Records is 15 minutes and eight tracks of vicious speed bursts, gnarly belly crawls, and disconcerting dissonance. The group does not dazzle with inventiveness, but the compositions don't stick to a one-speed crust/grind formula either. Sandpaper riffing and a bass/drum attack that shoots fire in all directions is what forms the core of songs like "The False War" and "Burning". Guitarist/vocalist Richard utilizes an angry and shouting style that is hardly full of nuance or variation, his focus instead one of getting the point across as subtly as a sledgehammer. In between songs that often switch from bottom scrape to nut-job speed, the trio tosses in a bevy of angular moments that will in no way allow for a moment of reprieve or time for thoughtful reflection. Taryn's bass boasts one hell of a growl and provides the perfect accompaniment to Richard's gnarly riffing.

In the end DRUGS OF FAITH debut EP is a competent release, if not an overly captivating one. It is a simple case of providing the soundtrack to a populace that has grown weary of an increasing number of volatile geopolitical situations. In a word: decent.