It's bad times all year 'round in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, where the castrated legions that makeup the by-product known as TORTURED TONGUES reside. The tar-like muck that licked your face endlessly for days upon the debut of their self-released 7-inch in 2009 has crawled out from those toenails once again and has brought the prime slime right up to the front, where it's always belonged. Churning dawn-of-the-century Clone Defects slobberism, schitzo Screamers scuzz, along with Bobby Soxx-soaked backwash, this is one Puritan-polluting problem we can fully stand behind here, as Tortured Tongues will be a very hard stain to wash out. Three full-charge scum punk wonders gracefully degrade this EP over the two sides, with the rusty-gutting, strangulated delivery oozing out of all the facial wounds of your miserable existence, this record might just be the "end of that rope" people are always referring to. First press of 500 black editions.