I played the crap out of Oozing Wound’s debut, Retrash, after events that forced me to wear a tie and act like an adult. It helped me to let go of the bullshit. I really appreciated the mean humor of song titles like “Welcome to the Spaceship, Motherfucker,” and the music matched the juvenile grossness of the album art. They struck me as a band intent on kicking ass, but with big enough balls to enjoy every moment of it.

On their new one, Earth Suck (Thrill Jockey Records), the bleeding fingers and smash ’n‘ trash guitars are turned up to more extreme tempos, bringing the aggression to a boil. On seven tracks in 30 minutes, the band attacks you in two different modes: super-fast kill ’em all or a slower, groovier pace that feels like being ground into the dirt. Tracks like “Bury Me with My Money” and “Genuine Creeper” leave little room for anything but riffs. Zack Weil brings his voice down an octave (lower than the vicious screech he used on much of Retrash) most of the time, unleashing a fuller, throatier version of of his coldly cynical vitriol. This band does not specialize in lyrics of hope and revelation. “Hippie Speedball” is a song about a guy who can’t get out of bed without, well, a speedball, and it’s not some kind of after-school special either; they just tell it like it is. Songs with names like “Going Through the Motions Til I Die”  don’t require much explication. Luckily, every few minutes, Weil screams something like, “Well, who are you, motherfucker?! Die!!!” and we’re all having fun again.

Perhaps the most serious of the seven tracks is “Colonel’s Kernal.” It’s comparatively long, clocking in at just under five minutes, and features a repeated series of rolling, chugging machine gun chords. It’s as if every note in the song is heavily accented and the only contrast is between loud and louder. The song ends with two minutes of those pounding chords repeating, then pausing as the band holds out a single note, catching its breath and then reloading for another assault. It’s very heavy, very scary, and in a minute makes clear the band’s capacity for brutal, emotional impact. The final track, “False Peak (Earth Suck),” concludes in equally furious and remarkable fashion, but without the breaks for retrenching. It’s a single, syncopated riff that repeats relentlessly for three straight minutes before cutting off in a sudden instant, as if the amps finally just blew-up.