A gritty rescue attempt before drowning in sludge. Pounding vibrations from the bomb shelter. The sound of punk rock virgins fighting for purity in the mucky aftermath. Throbbing bass as deliberate as post-apocalyptic earthworms. Beauty Queens sucks the life out of the party and spews it back in...

Jahiliyyah presents a howling scrum of ecstatic durge from the daylight-deprived bowels of Tokyo. Replete with all the glopshod trappings you come to expect from a precarious flossing session, this remains in gran's dentures until the tea gets cold. Ancient casiotone purges, or the best music money can buy?