Not an album for the solace seeker, this one. Pretty rough. Like tacks in your cereal, as P.O.S. says.
This album is loud, but never gratuitous. It’s brash, but it seems like it comes from a genuine place. This isn’t shock-value hardcore with screaming just to sound edgy. The impression that I get from this is that P.O.S. — his off-stage name is Stefon Alexander — is a real dude, with real demons, real-life shit, and he’s dropping it on tape for all to behold. That’s why I respect this one. Music as sharp as life.
Sounds like: life isn’t always love songs
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