Cold Meat

Cold Meat

Hot And Flustered

Static Shock

***Well, after a slew of 7” offerings, Perth’s COLD MEAT have finally hit us with a full length record. Much like their last few releases they’ve taken an amped up approach to '70s PUNK but this time round they offer ever so slightly more diversity. Ten tracks clocking in at just over 23 minutes and cut at 45rpm for maximum volume. Get hot and flustered.   “Agh! A fresh chop from the large dusty burning murder island: Cold is the Meat to beat. Perth’s finest flesh purveyors have upped their naughty game here across ten tracks of gleefully haughty punk. Hot and Flustered is somehow at once extremely camp and deadly serious. Ashley’s vengeful, elastic rasp smears menses down the screwfaces of vacuous tastemakers, climate change deniers, perennial street perverts, and of course, ZZ top fans. There’s some surprisingly poignant forays into melody (Beach Photography) and a good grip of sudden tempo fuckery to keep us well and truly hooked. Their signature chubby and defiant riffs under snarky bouncing toms formula extends well to the album form, creating a timely reminder that hate and fear are more than reasonable responses to our hell predicament. Let’s take comfort in collective ridicule. When it’s too hot to pogo because the sky is on fire, Cold Meat will let us writhe around in the dirt like the little piggies we are.” (Bryony Beynon)

Cold Meat

Pork Sword Fever

Static Shock

***NOW AVAILABLE!!! COLD MEAT hail from Perth, Western Australia, but truly these are siren songs for every woman getting fucked over in every corner of this sorry planet, oozing total defiance and sneering, caustic rage across five certified slappers. They hex lazy pricks and bad bastards with a spell of spectacular jangeloid riffs and clattering anarcho toms, each track upping the stakes like a praying mantis—fuck, decapitate, eat corpse for nourishment. Vocalist ASHLEY's throaty, spit-splashed lyrics cover the full gamut from the care burden placed on mothers ('Maternity Stomp') to the psychic burden of hating men while craving dick ('Meat Joy'). This is incisive, tongue-in-arse-cheek, indefatigably Now punk. Cold Meat will have you fisting the air, but only if you lube up first.