Crashing down on black boots of steel plated power, buildings demolished in the sign of the violent, and standing strong against the forces of manipulative mirror-descends the powerviolence punk of Wolfhound Stomp99. Expect no mercy here, no whisper of nuance, no expression of beauty. Those that stomp come only to crush and destroy, to spread hatred through the streets, as flame of fury grows ever higher amongst the ruined skyline of urban desolation. Now breaking the concrete chains with an incantation of infernal sadism, those that stomp have aligned with the iron claws of GoatowaRex intolerance, to bring this ruin to all upon the construct of rage wax. The Punishing Fire is an inferno of hyper violent vigilance. Boisterous punk melodies, bombastic drum barrages, screeching vocal oration, and a merixalles atmosphere of devastating horror. A society imploding upon itself as those that stomp shake the city streets, skulls smashed in the inquisition of concrete justice. No time for kindness here amongst the pathetic phantoms of the past, let terror be scarred into the minds of all; no shame, no love, only death. Over and over, death snaking its way through the fire, acrid smoke choking the lungs of the weak. The children of the chaff. Need it be known that those that stomp have come. In this there can be no denial-as sound of speed, of powerviolence screams, howl through all filth encrusted alley ways of mortal urban prison. An artillery of unrelenting rage, the baying of the wolfhound cuts through the fetters of decadence, the growing pack of gnarled teeth and bloodstained maw lending claw of ruin to all. Those that wish to stomp, need place their boots in aimless waters no longer, Wolfhound Stomp99 give ground to crush and wreck. A place for those to hate, and a place for those to howl.
