An album on which everything right down to the artwork reeks of desolation and loneliness, the self-titled debut from Barcelona‘s Lords of Bukkake (Odio Sonoro/Gaia Records) is the ideal companion for those evenings when, left to your own devices in a world of infinite possibilities, you choose to sit around in your underwear, drink by yourself and hate at a major league level. Full of visceral anger directed whichever way the speakers are facing, it is slicing and grating, painful, hurtful doom lashing out irredeemable remorse and churning violence. It is the kind of music that makes you feel like there are bugs crawling on you.

Lords of Bukkake opens with its longest track, “Black Lung” — by all accounts an affliction with which bassist/vocalist Toni L?pez is familiar. His biting rasp reminds of Alan Dubin fronting a less minimalist Khanate, while the occasional drawling stoner rock solo from guitarist Jaume L. Pantale?n (also of Cuzo) sets Lords of Bukkake apart from those drone magnates. Still, at 18:47, “Black Lung” is a fierce slab of darkened sludge, chopping up the corpse of a desperate riff and leaving the body up in the Torre de Collserola for the tourists to find.

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