Where Hank Williams Senior heard the call of the whippoorwill, grandson Hank Williams III hears instead the cattle caller, and in the weird world of his musical imaginings, he has concocted an album to introduce a new genre called 'cattlecore' where death/thrash metal and a range of cattle auctioners' actual scat-patter is merged into this discordant and agriculturally mad sound.
It has been released simultaneously with reviewed below joint album Ghost To A Ghost/Gutter Town, and if you think any aspect of that double album is heavily peculiar [which has its moments amongst those acknowledged traditional tunes] then pepare for a weightier aural assault, certainly heftier then the Bull Balls of one track, and more demonic then the hilarious pun of another, Angus of Death.
I can't actually describe it. The only way to understand is to get down into the cattle-pit and prepare yourself to be covered in a considerable hardcore musical mayhem of shit - and I know I telegraphed that rhyme about as far as the trajectory of a super shitspreader's contents itself.
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