Mommy consist of a two-person rhythm section (bass and drums) that pulls much heavier weight than most “full” bands, paired with a ranting, deranged frontman harassing himself with his own poetic psychoses. The songs are built through repetition, on top of harsh, broken hooks that drill into your skull as the primal drumming avalanches down onto the toms. Mike growls out histories of his institutionalization in ragged monotone as if Jim Carroll were bitten by a rabid Vi Subversa. Its simplicity is its potency—in freshness and power this record is a spiritual successor to the first explosion of UK Anarcho. Musically it stands adjacent but apart, a much stranger and twisted beast.