If you’re going to name your band Cunts then I expect some vile shit. If you’re going to double down and go with Cunts (Ipecac Recordings) as the name of your album, then you’re really looking to summon the Kraken here. I’m ready to slam a forty ounce of Olde English 800, get bashed over the head with a folding chair and crawl back home only to fuck on the floor. Let’s destroy something beautiful. Continue reading →