How the hell can someone be such a dickhead as to complain that an album like this is too dirty, too chaotic, as if that unreleased Proclamation (there, I said it) DAT sat in a car for a week in the sun after the rain.
If you go to a butcher and ask for sausage, you want to eat sausage; whether the flavor varies isn’t important, but you sure as hell don’t want the “Beyond” version with beetroot fibers in it. And thankfully Supremative aren’t the Beyond version of jack shit; if anything, they’re that crazy village sausage with a bit more offal in the mix and red wine thrown in to give it bite.
Guys, these cavemen are raw even by the genres standard, kind of like Banish from Bengal that I produced in 2020. You can’t help but appreciate anyone who takes a diamond and ruins it until it’s unrecognizable.
Never evolve, I say, and here we’re at 100%.