BUILT UPON FRUSTRATION
The Book of Mourning
Da 'CoreTrack listing:
01. The Immaculate Rejection
02. Perish
03. The Book of Mourning
04. For What You Have Done
05. Birthrites
06. Drowning In Disgust
07. Everything About Me
08. Faith In Destruction
09. The End of Days
10. My Trust You Betrayed
If spit, sweat and goatees alone could guarantee a band's success, Pittsburgh bruisers BUILT UPON FRUSTRATION would be the biggest band in the country. As it is, they're storming around their hometown's working-class hardcore scene, tearing shit up with a angry, metallic attack that satisfies with its bone-basic ferocity even as it delivers a whole heapin' helpin' of exactly what we'd expect.
The band is perhaps best-known for featuring Eric Klinger in their ranks — the PRO-PAIN axeman has been a looming presence in the Steel City since the days of his first band, SECTION 315 (note to any Pittsburgh readers: if you have the original DROP DEAD demo from 1993-4, I want a copy). BUILT UPON FRUSTRATION is a slower, angrier, altogether more seething and brutal machine than PRO-PAIN, however, closer in style to HATEBREED or SWORN ENEMY. The vocals sound inhumanly rough, bumped up in the mix for maximum ear-bleed (listen to this CD a couple times and your throat will hurt),while the guitars are thick asphalt slabs of crushing metal riffery, with the occasional SLAYER-esque guitar hook.
Chances are, anyone who's heard any hardcore in their life already knows what they're getting into at this point. It just falls to me to point out that, while there's certainly nothing new in BUILT UPON FRUSTRATION's enraged assault, their bloody-eyed conviction and sheer single-minded pissed-off-edness (add that one to your dictionary) still makes this a satisfying listen. At this point, hardcore is like the blues — you don't listen to it for flashy innovation or technical know-how, you listen because it strikes a primal chord down deep in your gut, and it stirs an indefinable empathy in you (or, in the case of hardcore, it makes you want to go punch your fist through the windshields of your enemies and ex-girlfriends).
By that standard, BUILT UPON FRUSTRATION is a just-about-perfect record. Formulaic? Sure. Meaner than a junkyard dog raised on a steady diet of gunpowder and kicks in the balls? You bet, and well worth your sweaty fistful of dollars, too.