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The crowning instrument of destruction atop Providence, R.I.'s already legendary art Hardcore scene, Lightning Bolt simply rip. Though only consisting of a masked drummer and a bassist, you'd swear there was an army of musicians backing them. This is the type of band who people surround, jaws dropped and eyes darting from one player to the other in awe and envy. Crushing beats fly at you like 12-gauge blasts as towering crashes of thick, crushing noise and inhuman structure swim, charge and dart. This is more than immediate catharsis, it's a violent purging -- a purging of your notion of what Punk rock is capable of. Sure, Lightning Bolt are a rock band, and sure, you'll get your rocks off watching them. But enjoy it while you can, because death is upon you, and he comes wearing a Mexican wrestling mask. Romulans unite!
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