Pound Land/ Headless Kross – Split LP
Pound Land/ Headless Kross – Split LP
Cruel Nature Records
Release Date: 12/09/25 (Vinyl pre-order closes 01/08/25)
Review by Dark Juan
Graham’s Number/10
I have just been through Hell. It is called IKEA. It is a place where time does not exist, where hordes of zombified morons lurch around in an illuminated arrow labyrinth of soft furnishings and improbably named cupboards, where daylight never penetrates. The keepers of this torturous dystopia of internal design wear bright yellow or blue shirts with the Swedish word for “Hello” plastered on them in huge letters (it is “Hej” in case you have never set foot in the Orwellian hellscape that is IKEA) whilst simultaneously emanating an aura that does not invite you to engage you in conversation. While you are trudging through their sense-assaulting maze of unusual light fittings and reasonably priced mirrors, thinking about attracting their attention, they make the briefest of eye contact with you, the milky film over their eyes and pasty skin belying their sunlight-deprived existence, they vanish, seemingly as if by magic, through a hidden door next to the Kallax cupboards mounted on the wall of a simulated flat the size of a postage stamp, that would only be suitable for living in IF YOU HAD NO POSSESSIONS OR HOBBIES WHATSOEVER. The speed with which they achieve this is truly spectacular, leaving a gap in spacetime and a lingering scent of unwashed body odour, because IKEA is also as hot as Satan’s arsehole, and because the last thing these brightly-clad denizens of Swedish furniture Hades want to do is actually communicate with you, mainly because they have forgotten how to speak unless they are manning the kitchen design desks and are obliged to talk. There’s also more light around the kitchen bit. That is why the kitchen staff are able to speak, they don’t have to scurry round in the dark avoiding families with confused brats clambering all over the Hhfiwjihpivfehiowhou beds and Wioiofhihehuuihwjisjjjip desks. However, in a spectacular bit of Pavlovian training, they have put a restaurant in the middle of it, so that all their captives can feast on meatballs and something pale they laughably call gravy, and you can have a drink too, as long as it has lingonberries in it. Truly, Satan is Swedish.
This matters not, however, to the proud Platter of Splatter ™ which is currently being subjected to a split album between Dark Juan favourites (an uncomfortable thing to be, to be sure) Pound Land and Headless Kross, courtesy of the excellent Steve of Cruel Nature Records. It has to be said that, because Steve is the most courteous of gentlemen, this review is an EXCLUSIVE offered to Ever-Metal.com before the vinyl pre-orders end on August 1st. I’m very excited. I have only ever had an exclusive once before, from Occams Laser.
Headless Kross are a Sludge/ Psychedelic Doom Metal band from Glasgow and are heavier than having a castle land on you after being dropped from a great height. Pound Land aren’t. They are a deeply disturbing Experimental/ Industrial/ Punk/ Whateverthefuckthatis band who are from the North West of England and have extremely massive working-class chips on their collective shoulder, which Dark Juan shares. However, these two groups played some shows together and made a Faustian pact to record together. What I am currently liquifying my hypothalamus with is the result of that deeply unholy coupling.
Unholy is the EXACT word for it. This is the result of unsanctioned genetic experiments in rusty bathtubs on industrial estates on the edge of Salford or Cambuslang. It is fucking terrifying. What is even worse is that the bands have each covered one of the other’s songs – Headless Kross take on Pound Land’s ‘Pathogen’ in a Doom Metal riff frenzy and Pound Land mutilate Headless Kross’s ‘Signed In Blood’. What is remarkable is how well both bands do with the respective songs (or demented gabbling social poetry in Pound Land’s case) and how well the snotty, Punk as fuck Mancunian vocals work on ‘Signed In Blood’, and I never thought I’d say this, but the spasmodic, violent, off-kilter squawky sex horn works really well on the tune too.
The album opens with ‘The Thing Invisible’ and it doesn’t fuck about, either. Straight into some colossal riffing that reminds Dark Juan of early Pitch Shifter, and everything great about Doom and Sludge happens all at once with a particularly aggressive, snarling, mid-pitched roar on the vocal. The word “uncompromising” was invented for this song. It grinds. And grinds. And fucking grinds until there is only powder left. There’s nothing left on the table with this song. It is a fucking mighty opener for an album that now offers the promise of many things that should not be.
Which Dark Juan is TOTALLY here for.
‘The Thing Invisible’ is followed by Headless Kross’s take on ‘Pathogen’. I alluded to it above, but they take Pound Land’s anarchic, violent, hate-spitting social commentary and turn it into something truly incredible – I would never have thought that Pound Land’s music would have translated into Doom/ Sludge, but Headless Kross have fucking nailed it, folks. The vocal achieves ever-greater heights of spittle-fuelled rage and the riffs… Oh, my dear, sweet summer children, the fucking RIFFS. They are majestic! Pound Land’s jabbering, spasmodic music is transformed into something so fucking monstrous it should be banned under the Geneva Convention as it is unconventional warfare which has no regard at all for collateral damage.
‘The Necessity of 3 Conditions’ is up next, and the Glaswegian musical murderers take up the heaviness yet another notch or two with some extraordinary bass work that provides more bottom end than a bus full of shot putters and powerlifters. It is yet another piece of magnificent Scottish Doom supremacy. My head is reverberating because of the heaviness of the bass, and I am pulling faces that have forced Mrs Dark Juan out of the house because she says it looks like I am about to go completely postal with added homicidal. That shows you just how good Headless Kross are.
Now it is Pound Land’s turn. They aren’t fucking about either – their first tune is ‘Fuck Off to Mars’ and it is a gibbering, jerky piece that espouses that Elon fucking Musk and his ilk should, well, fuck off to Mars and stay there – as he is “the world’s richest twat”. Pound Land truly write the contents of Dark Juan’s head when it is not in slaughterhouse mode. Even the accent is similar, for although Dark Juan rattles on about Yorkshire, he was born in Manchester, and no-one can say “fuck off” quite like a Manc. Their bass-led, filthy dirty sound is enhanced and unsettled by Jo’s lurching, twitchy sax work and the whole thing makes Dark Juan want to take to the streets and indulge in specifically targeted violence. ‘I See Crime’ is much the same – Mancunian ranting, discordant sax and a beat that implies a rioting mob starting to charge a police line defending the great and the good. Well, this time the unwashed are angry and taking everything back, and Pound Land are the soundtrack to destroyed Bentleys and mansions set afire in the affluent towns around Manchester, like Alderley Edge and Wilmslow. They and we are not going to stop until the wealthy are reduced to ashes.
‘Cunt Do It’ is next up and it’s just fucking savage, invoking in Dark Juan’s mind a machine-like, dystopian nightmare Britain where totalitarianism has taken over, posters on the walls of train stations exhorting people to become Government informers and betray their families and friends and offering rewards for you to do it. Living standards are lower than a snake’s belly and there are roaming arrest and rape squads and plainclothes secret police, hunting anyone who dares deviate from their fascistic norms, before Pound Land then take Headless Kross’s ‘Signed In Blood’ and take it behind the bins for a fucking good kicking, taking the Doom Metal and turning it into a screaming, clanging beast that lashes out in rage and terror. The vocal becomes almost a narrative, Mancunian fury spitting in the face of the poor bystander who has stumbled into something they never wanted to be involved in, yet they have witnessed it and will forever be cursed with their memory of what they saw, the horror, the blood, the broken bones and the bloodstain teeth and pickaxe handles…
The Patented Dark Juan Blood Splat Rating System has hauled Dark Juan off to the “special place” as he’s got carried away again. This split album is one of the most dangerous things he has ever heard and now he is dangerously overstimulated and plotting the overthrow of the Government in the bloodiest coup he can come up with. Therefore, the Patented Dark Juan Blood Splat Rating System will keep him locked away for the good of everyone and forbid him from ever listening to Pound Land for a long time and chooses to award Headless Kross and Pound Land Graham’s Number/10, because this must surely rank among the absolute elite of British extremity, for both bands.
In case you aren’t aware of what Graham’s Number is, it is a number that is so large that it is beyond practical comprehension. It is not a number that belongs to Graham. I only put it in to annoy EM Oli, anyway!
TRACKLISTING:
01. The Thing Invisible
02. Pathogen
03. The Necessity of 3 Conditions
04. Fuck Off to Mars
05. I See Crime
06. Cunt Do It
07. Signed In Blood
08. Fuck Off to Mars (Fast Version)
LINE-UP:
Pound Land:
Nick – Instruments
Adam – Vocals, lyrics
Rich – Bass
Jo – Sax
Steve – Drums
Headless Kross:
Derek – Bass & voice,
Jonny – Drums,
Tommy – Guitar
LINKS:
Pound Land:
Headless Kross:
Disclaimer: This review is solely the property of Dark Juan and Ever Metal. It is strictly forbidden to copy any part of this review, unless you have the strict permission of both parties. Failure to adhere to this will be treated as plagiarism and will be reported to the relevant authorities.