There must be something in the water in Australia. These days it seems like the land-down-under has a nearly infinite supply of some of the coolest rock n’ roll music being made in any hemisphere. Hailing from Melbourne, DOZERS aren’t afraid to get downright ugly on this dirty, nasty slab of vinyl. This is some disgusting music, and I mean that the best way possible. The playing is hard, loose, and sloppy while keeping a hard, grungy groove, and the frontman sounds like he’s on the verge of a drunken nervous breakdown; it’s as if his mouth physically cannot move fast enough to spew out his brain’s angry and paranoid rantings in his unique spin on sing-speak. The trebly guitar buzzes, clangs, and skronks with the best of them; I’m reminded of Greg Ginn, D. Boon, and the other noisy weirdos who helped to redefine how the guitar should be played in punk rock. Speaking of Ginn and Boon, DOZERS is strangely reminiscent of that magical time when hardcore and punk were both still relatively new and moving forward rapidly; they conjure up the ghosts of mid-period Black Flag, Minutemen, and Mudhoney, combining these influences into a thick and swampy brew that’s all their own. The lead track “Brains” explodes out of the gate with an angular guitar riff preceded by some genuinely unsettling sounds, and throughout the song the vocalist alternates sing-speaking, throat-shredding screaming, and disgusting pig noises while the guitar, bass and drums grind and spray shards of noise. In the next song, “Rewind,” the rhythm section lays down a fat, plodding groove while the frontman goes absolutely nuts on the guitar between verses. The closer, “Mud,” follows suit, with a hard groove anchored by fuzzy bass underneath the guitarist/vocalist’s explosive and raucous vocal and instrumental antics. This 7” is a riot, so check it out and pick it up via Thornbury Records.