The following is the August 1988 installment of Puszone

Thanks to Scott Slimm for the article.

"She was extremely happy. A great smile covered her face from ear
to ear. Ivory teeth sparkled. A glow radiated from her body She spoke
with a sensitive voice that communicated her direction and essence
along with a pleasant sense of well being. She didn't worry much
about all of the problems of the day, not that she didn't care, she just
didn't let them crawls under her skin like invisible mites. There wasn't a
black cloud of depression over her head. She was living life to the
fullest, enjoying every minute as best as she possible could. She was in
the big city for the first time. The plane ride had made her a bit queasy,
but being naive to all these new occurences kept her smiling and a bit
adventurous. A bad sence of direction led her into the wrong part of
town, the place she didn't belong, the area where she stuck out like a
green monster from Mars. Walking down the sidewalk, amidst the hoots and
hollers, she smiled. Maybe she was a bit scared, but she didn't want them
to know. The grabbing, the shouting, the staring, she felt these people
were being so insensitve to her. She had done nothing wrong and she was
happy. Maybe they were jealous. The man with the gun pointed at her head
bothered her just a bit, but she decided to walk on. The man fired two shots;
they whizzed past, millimeters away. She smiled and walked down the sidewalk.
The light was green and she crossed the street, forgetting to look both ways,
still smiling. Then a herd of elephants trampled her down to a bloody pulp in
the street and were gone as soon as they had arrived. her smile didn't glow as
much."

"Wait a minute. What kind of story is that?" asked the teacher.

"Hey, you interrupted me, teach. What's wrong with this story?" the student
snapped.

"How could a herd of elephants trample down a girl in the big city?"
the teacher asked.

"Ah, come on teach, everyone knows an elephant doesn't know the difference
between a stop light and a green light!"

Well, so much for intros. Better get back to the Puszone.

I don't think I've ever gotten so many pre-release copies of one title
like I have of this one. The hype definitely seems to be on, so here it
is. Let's see, the first song starts off with some deep bass chords and
yeah, the madness begins. The vicious slice, the deepest cut, "Psychomania?"
Nah, not that Damned tune; these are the fun-loving cousins of that haggard
old wench Martha Splatterhead. You know, the Accused. Martha Splatterhead's
Maddest Stories Ever Told offers these good points:(get out your note pads)
A) Good tight, forceful sounding production, definitely an ear ringing jewel,
B)Not much change in style from the last batches you know so well, except that
Tommy has snuck a few metal licks in there, C) Blaine (well, he should have
been point B) the guy's voice is insane(say it long), like an alley cat fight.
Those snarls-how does he control his voice? I expect to see women with ripped
dresses and claw marks on their arms and legs. Still, on the speedy parts...
what did he say? D) Lots of songs for greater combustion, including three covers.
Oh no?! For grabbers, Ten Years After's "Id Love to Change the World" amd GBH's
"Sick Boy". If that ain't enough (it's not for me), sink your teeth into "The
Bag Lady Song," "Starved to Death," or "Scared of the Dark", which shows that
aggressive Accused powerhouse slaughter. And lastly, point E) The Accused
continue to maintain their unique blend of fast, raw, skin-spankin' assaults
that grow stronger with each release. This Seattle based band isn't for the
faint hearted, but they've proven themsleves to be a mighty outfit who have
continued through thick and thin for numerous years. Continual cheers to the
Accused, and hey, they're doing a comic book, too! On Combat Records.

To the south of Seattle lies the hopelessly allay home of State of Confusion,
those Idaho punksters who still beat it down. There seemed to be some confusion
as to when this LP would come out, who would put it out and please don't ask the
question, why is it coming out? Hopefully, the second LP, A Street isn't
collecting dust on your local distributor's shelf because this platter matter
grinds feverishly and raw with the sheer power of an early hardcore daze. The
thin wall of sound buzzes with explosive force, yet the production is weak to
say the least. Even so, the boys stick all their efforts into the musical
attack and come up with another batch of smashers. Now find that studio. State
of Confusion, true to their name, seem to be lost in a critic's time warp, not
jumping on the newest bandwagon but sticking to their guns and playing from
the heart, coming up with twelve tracks that blaze with speed (not of the ultra
division), and that noisy chaos the police always seem to claim is bothering
people. It's fun, enjoyable hardcore that is not overbearing or unpleasant.
Growling with raspy guitars and, dare I say, "Henry"(as in Kissinger, I'm sure)
type vocals, these four will won over the most serious cult maniacs. Pack all
this rambunctious activity into a package sealed with a Cliff Green cover and
you've got yourself an LP's worth of music that is more fun than a night in Boise.
Nah, that's the S.O.C. home urf. Somewhere out there on Subcore Records.
You can't miss it.

And just down the street, seriously, is another Northwest unit powering its way
out of the mud, a band from the shores of Boise by the name of Grind. Now there's
this guy in Grind who is the future rock star, he plays guitar, he's got charisma
like you wouldn't believe. Ever seen Johnny Quest? If rock stars were like this guy,
you'd want to bring them home and replace your Cabbage Patch Kids. Ted hates rock
star, too, but he does grind on that guitar. Add his charisma to that of Eric,
Woody and Glenn's and you have a humorous and entertaining outfit. So much so
that at a recent gig the local softball team decided to spread their flying A's
in appreciation. It was a touching moment. On this demo cassette, Seek, Find...
Grind, you have fifteen tracks of medium-paced core with good thyming lyrics
and a thick, dirgy sound. Really raw garage stuff. For a demo, it's a good start.
Check into this tape from Grind.

Hirax is back in a somewhat limited form, namely a seven-inch with only 1,000
copies pressed(released in Sweden, no less). Entitled Blasted in Bangkok,
this disc features two lengthy tracks, "The Beginning of the End" and "Fear the
War Within". Both show very intense lyrical observations, especially in "Fear..."
You just don't see metal type bands with this kind of writing. Long poetic comments
on the surrounding world, in Katon's sopranic voice and a tuneful delivery, are
paced by a thick, heavy, roaring guitar. Hirax gets most of their recognition
in the speed metal category, but what they are setting out to do is heartfelt and
strong. They are a lot wiser than most other speed metal bands who are rising to
the top. It is good to know that members of this genre can care without losing
the respect of their audience. Two great tracks in the unique manner of Hirax.

If you mixed up the sounds of early British punk/HC sound (79-81) with todays
Japanese hardcore attack, you'd probably get a band that sounds somewhat like
Doctor and the Crippens. On their debut LP, Fired from the Circus, the
first track, "Freak of Nature" combines that Discharge/Chaos UK/The Insane
(early days) Brit sound with the force of today's raging core barrage, yet the
composition holds tight like in days past. And why not? Isn't that Dave
Ellesmere, ex-skinf smasher of the Insane, hammering away on drums? That's
probably just one of the reasons the older style comes into play. There is
definitely some experience here. With a decent vocalist who writes crazed lyrics,
(who else would be from England and write a song called "Ever Been to Utah?")
this band really storms. These twenty-two tracks never back off; they keep the
drive alive, flying with speed and chaotic overtures. The record even sports
an inner sleeve that looks like it was made by the "Skate Muties" crew. Lots of
humor here,a s well as forceful music. Stuff like "Ballad of Farmer Vincent," deserves
radio airplay. Can the masses tolerate, or will they retaliate? Doctor and the
Crippens are an entertainment in themselves and seventy percent of the record
had me shagging. Great stuff in no one's tradition. Demand it. On Manic Ears.

Thundering out of Arizone is a sonic blaster band that goes by the name of
Last Option. This seven-inch EP reminds me of the early Dischord days,
namely stuff like S.O.A. and Youth Brigade. Hungry, gritty hardcore that
is forceful with stamina, raw with desire, and youthful in its angry approach.
The Overtime EP features eight tracks that fill up the grooves, clocking in
at just about twelve minutes, and there's never a dull moment. These speedy
deliveries are packed in with thick shouting chants of "positive" type lyrics
that reflect on the frustrations surrounding them. A so-so mix has the vocals
up front, guitars a bit hidden, and the drums not so overpowering, but the overall
effect is raunchy vigor. Last Option has put together a nice piece of captivating
material. Write to Soulforce Records.