With a name that seems to cull from an album by The Acacia Strain it does not take a genius to figure out Deadwalk’s style: ultra burly, brutal, chugging hardcore meant for mosh pits, spin kicks and crossed arms. With no pretenses of anything but, Deadwalk drag their knuckles through 10 downtuned simple beatdowns that bring to mind the likes of Redline, the first Bury Your Dead and Liferuiner  albums, xBishopx, and Built Upon Frustration. It’s the kind of uber chunky, one trick breakdown fueled stuff that makes Hatebreed look like Nightwish. The kind of hardcore music you work out to and the kind of hardcore that makes you want to fight, and it’s just what the doctor ordered.

No forced deathcore blasts or high pitched screams, no interludes of ballads, no acoustics no samples, no clever quippy song titles, just testosterone filled hardcore simplicity at its most base. Vocalist Greg Kepka (Ex Too Pure to Die, for some idea of the band’s tone) has a requisite neanderthal, mouth full of nuts and bolts roar and the guitars are as simple and heavy as it gets, but its effective. Don’t get me wrong there is absolutely nothing creative or new on this album, and each song essentially delivers the same thing, even for brutal hardcore, but the resonating, lumbering likes of “Prom Night”, “Frailty”, “Death Sentence”, “Jailbait”  and “Final Destination” make me want to scowl and punch old ladies in the throat, Segal style.

Sorry Grandma.